


Harry Potter and the International Triwizard Tournament

by Saliient91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Magic, Multi, Politics, Romance, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-27 21:03:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 50
Words: 501,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21125222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saliient91/pseuds/Saliient91
Summary: Fic is crossposted from FFN, it is still being written and future updates will be added here too. A disillusioned Harry Potter begins to unravel his potential as the wizarding world follows the Triwizard Tournament. Harry delves into a world that is much greater, and more complicated, than he was aware of. Story contains more detailed magic, politics, and more; it is a story of growth and and maturation. Harry is het and it may or may not be a multi fic.





	1. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a cross post from FFN on 10/21/19. All chapters posted and future chapters will be updated at the same time as well. As of posting date, 5k followers, 1500 reviews and 3700 favorites on FFN. It was suggested to me to post here as well as others may like to read it that may miss it with it just on FFN. It's my first fic and the writing improves as the story moves along. Hope you enjoy reading it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd add a couple of things before the fic gets started. First, the disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am just writing this fanfic as an unpaid hobby.
> 
> Secondly, the start of the fic is what it is. This is my first attempt at creative writing and the start is certainly not top tier quality. I don't mind leaving it as a marker for how my writing started; hopefully, it encourages others to see that they too can write poorly and then work to improve.
> 
> With that said, I hope you enjoy reading it or find other fics that are more to your preferences to read. The chapters have been run through Grammarly by Nauze, to catch some of the spelling and obvious formatting issues that were originally missed.
> 
> Added: 8/7/20

Harry Potter sat up in his four-poster bed in the 4th year's Gryffindor dormitory. He groaned and thought back to what happened last night before blissful Morpheus had taken him. Ah, yes, he recalled now with more clarity than he would've preferred. Yesterday was Halloween. The day marked on his calendar each year to ensure he gained a new reminder of why he loathed that day.

This, absolutely lovely, Oct 31, 1994, was the one in which his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. An event that literally still makes no sense. He was a fourth competitor in a Triwizard Tournament. Tri, meaning three, which can, apparently, mean four in the wizarding world. A world seemingly apt at making the illogical, logical. Three does not mean four unless it involves ancient magic, Department Heads from the Ministry of Magic, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, the Heads of the three most prestigious schools of magic across Europe and an auror so paranoid that his moniker was 'Mad-Eye'. When faced with a fourth competitor in a three-participant tournament, those esteemed and distinguished members of the Wizarding World, simply agreed it would happen regardless.

Somehow, being the 4th champion for an unnamed school forced him to compete on the tournament or he'd lose his magic. The _best _part of the night, though, was yet to come. Harry, over the years, had found himself in absolutely ridiculous situations at this school already and in those circumstances, he always had his two best friends with him. Ron Weasley, his male best friend, was not with him for this one. The yelling and punch he'd received made that abundantly clear. Hermione Granger, his female best friend, had asked how and why he had done it.

That question hurt Harry far more than the punch. Ron had always been a bit jealous and Harry could see them having a fall out eventually. Hermione, though, should've known better. Her asking was an irreparable breach of his trust and as if that wasn't enough, her telling him in that condescending tone of hers that she wouldn't be mediating the boys' fallout was the icing on the cake. She'd be distancing herself from both to not show favouritism until they worked it out between them. As Harry had done nothing to bring about Ron's ire, this meant, from his perspective, that she had sided with Ron, and now his two "best friends" were no longer his friends.

Harry wasn't sure if his Quidditch teammates believed him. Angelina and Alicia were upset that they didn't get picked and also distant with him, not openly supportive. George and Fred told him on the train they were going to try and date those two, so even the twins might fail to be vocally supportive of him and since Katie usually stuck with Angelina and Alicia, he had no idea what she would do.

As Harry sat in his bed, realizing just how messed up his year had become, he knew what was about to happen. The fickle school would turn on him, once again. The Slytherins, simply because they were led by Draco Malfoy, would harass and bully him whenever they had the chance. Snape would support them and protect his charges from reprisal of any kind. It was always fair to pick on Harry Potter at school. This was a lesson he'd learned long ago, in primary school with Dudley, and was reinforced over the last three years at Hogwarts. Yelling out racial slurs against muggle-borns, being hexed in the corridors, verbal threats against your life or blatant sabotage in classes were just part of his educational experience.

This time, however, not a single person would be having his back. No friends to help keep his spirits up as he weathered the storm. No adult within the castle that would stand up for him. Apparently, Dumbledore believed he'd not put his name into the Goblet, just as he knew Harry wasn't the Heir of Slytherin back in his second year, not that he ever protected Harry from the mistreatment his peers, and Snape, dished out at him. Harry supposed he would just go to breakfast to confirm it.

A small part of Harry still held out hope. The same tiny part, that sliver of light that kept his spirit burning in the bleak life he'd had before Hagrid smashed down the door and the world of magic burst into his life. Harry was going to force himself to trudge on down to the Great Hall just to see if there was anyone still left in his corner. He'd not been able to think of anyone who would be. He yearned for someone to give him unconditional support. The support he thought his best friends would've given him. That the Gryffindor House would be his new family, just as he was told back in his first year.

Harry didn't know what he would do if he ended up all alone again. There was no cupboard at Hogwarts to go and hide in, no place to get some respite if even his housemates turned on him fully. Perhaps behind the curtains of his four-poster bed, he could find his new cupboard. A place where he could at least trust that he would be left to rot in peace, for the most part.

It only took him ten minutes to shower and get ready to go to breakfast. His roommates had already left. Hermione wasn't waiting for him in the common room, watching the stairs with a book in hand eagerly, ready to get their day going together. No Ron to wake up and drag along to get a massive meal down into the unending pit that was his stomach. No, Harry descended the stairs into the common room and there was nobody. A lump formed in his throat as he realized just how lonely he felt.

In a warm common room full of life and students, he was left out in the cold. People wouldn't give him a smile or a friendly look. Those who willingly met his eyes only shot nasty or indifferent looks at him. Harry dropped his chin and focused on getting out of there quickly. He made it through the portrait and began working his way through the castle towards the Great Hall. If the looks he got from Gryffindor's were unfriendly, then a stronger adjective would be needed even for the ones he got from the Ravenclaw students.

Still, Harry kept his head down and walked briskly to get to the Great Hall for breakfast. He made it into the room and forced himself to not look around and see all those who were staring and whispering at him. He could still hear a few jeers calling him a cheater or something in that vein, yet he put one foot in front of the other repeatedly until he got to his table. His normal seating area was devoid of the usual suspects.

Ron sat further up the table with his brothers and the Quidditch team. None of them made space for him, in fact, they looked as if they were trying to ensure no space would be open for him. Harry spied Hermione sitting with the 4th year girls that she normally never spent time around, finding them too full of gossip and not academically inclined enough for her tastes. She sat between Parvati and Lavender with the spot across taken by Fay.

Neville, Seamus and Dean were all sitting by Ron and there were no gaps between them and the 4th year girls. Harry sighed and sat down at his usual place without anyone beside or across from him. Nobody within easy speaking distance to even try and make polite conversation with as he ate.

Harry had finished most of his breakfast by the time the morning post arrived. It was obvious who was the main topic on the front page of the paper. A picture of him and the headline _The Cheating Champion?_ Was in bold letters above his name. Harry scanned the Head Table and no kind looks to be found there. The same as second-year, however without his friends. Harry munched on his food absently until Malfoy interrupted him.

"Like them, Potter?" he said with his usual sneer marring his face.

Harry glanced up seeing a badge on his chest. It read _Support Cedric Diggory the true Hogwarts Champion_. He tilted his head in confusion as he read it. Why was the badge an issue, he wondered, until he saw the words change. _Potter Stinks_ was now written on them in glaringly obvious size which anyone could read in the hall. The button itself was plain black and the size of an adult hand in circumference.

The look of triumph on the blonde Slytherin's face was obvious, gleeful at seeing his rival's face change from confusion to disgust at the taunt.

"Every Slytherin already has one and the other houses are clamouring for them. Want one, Potter?" Draco asked with a short laugh.

Harry tore his eyes away from the blighter to see if it was true. Most of the students clad in black, green and silver had a button. He could already see Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students with the offending pin on as well. His face turned to the Head table and he saw many of the professors were watching the exchange. Showing, yet again, that bullying was blatantly tolerated. A student could walk across the Great Hall in front of the faculty and student population for the sole reason of tormenting another student without worry of admonishment. Harry wondered how he could've been this naive.

Harry had his answer now. Nobody was in his corner. Not a single soul in the room spoke up for him or defended him. He did not even see any pity on the faces of any of his peers. There was no point staying in the hall, nothing to be gained responding to Draco. Getting a reaction is why he came over in the first place. If he retaliated with a verbal exchange, or Merlin forbid even pulling his wand, he would have Snape bearing down on him to give him detention. No, his only logical course of action was to leave, to get away from the students and faculty, retreat back to his dorm and figure out what he was going to do. How was he going to get through this now?

The only two items he had from his father were in his trunk and suddenly became even more priceless than they were before. He quickly made his way back through the deserted corridors and got to his bed. He went to his trunk and saw someone had tried to get into it. The upgraded security he had put on it after it had been rummaged through in 2nd year held out though. He had his trunk upgraded the following summer, not willing to be so careless with its security again. He could've had his family's heirloom stolen that year by Ginny.

The only place within the castle that Harry felt he would find some peace was now compromised. Not even his possessions were safe! What was he going to do now? Harry pulled out his map and cloak then shrunk his trunk and put it on his bed. He closed the curtains but cast a silencing spell. He wanted to hear if anyone entered the dorm. He sat on the bed with his invisibility cloak on and all of his possessions on him.

What was he going to do now? He remembered what McGonagall told him. Champions are excused from the end of year exams and classes. They also cannot be assigned detentions which would impact their preparations for the tournament. Harry wondered if he was really even a student now. He wasn't a Hogwarts champion. He was the champion for an unnamed school. Does this mean he doesn't have to attend Hogwarts this year?

That was a jarring thought for the teenager. Hogwarts had become his home but now it felt as welcoming as the horrible house he grew up in. If he wouldn't attend Hogwarts, where could he stay? Could he get to Gringotts and see if he could stay at the Leaky Cauldron again? No, Harry knew that Dumbledore would never allow that, last time he ran away, he was found at the pub by the Minister of Magic himself. Going there wouldn't get him away from all this vitriol, they'd have him back in his four-poster bed that night.

He needed somewhere where he could be hidden, with the Wizarding World none the wiser, a place to crash and begin to figure out what he should do. Today was the day that made him realize something. He was alone in the world. Truly alone, moreover with his life was in danger every year. He needed to do more than just rely on bad friends and useless adults. Platitudes and good intentions were not enough. The rhetoric of being kept safe was no longer enough. He had to take charge and look out for himself.

Perhaps he could go into the muggle world and hide for a while. However, Harry realized that as a fourteen-year-old, they'd not let him rent a room anywhere. No decent hotel would take an underage teenager, and if a place ever did, it was more than likely someplace he would want to avoid. The muggle world wouldn't work, so that left the magical world. Harry chuckled to himself at how naive he was.

The magical world for Harry Potter consisted of Platform 9 ¾, Diagon Alley, and Hogwarts. He had no idea of what else was around or even if there was something else. No way to navigate or move around. Diagon Alley wasn't an option, as he'd already dismissed the Leaky Cauldron as a possible lodging. Kings Cross wasn't viable either, how would he even get there and back to Hogwarts for the tasks? That only left Hogwarts, the Shrieking Shack and the Forbidden Forest as options. Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map and spoke the words to activate it, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

That made him softly laugh. He wasn't up to no good as in pranking or anything. He was trying to find a place to stay that was safe, hidden and secret within a magical castle. A _secret_ place? Could that be his answer? Could he stay in the infamous Chamber of Secrets? Nobody but himself could access it, at least in the school. The map provided nothing concrete. Unused classrooms were a possibility but he would be discovered in time. A couple of days, possibly, but not a whole year. Harry was really considering the option when he heard voices in his dorm room.

"Potter's not here," Dean said to someone Harry couldn't see.

"That bloody wanker, he cheated and didn't even have the balls to tell me. We could have done it together," after a short pause, he quickly amended what he'd said. "So we could have _all _done it together," Ron's voice said.

"I can't believe he'd cheat just to get some attention, I would've never thought him to be like that." Dean's voice carried the words to Harry, his voice a bit despondent.

"First year, everyone fawned over him, second was the Parselmouth thing, third-year he had Black after him and, instead of having a quiet fourth year, he cheated himself into the tournament…Maybe he got a taste for the spotlight," Ron mentioned to Dean.

"Yeah, he's always been in the middle of everything. Wonder how he did it. You'd think he'd have told his best mate," Dean wondered aloud.

"Probably just showing his true colours. Harry told me the hat wanted to put him in Slytherin." Ron groused.

"No way! You're pulling my leg!"

"I swear to Merlin, it's true!" Ron's voice made the vehement argument, Harry knew his words were truthful, he'd told Ron that in confidence, _not _so it could be blabbed about behind his back.

"Wow! Guess we should have known when the snake went after Justin in the Duelling Club," Dean said in realization.

Harry's mind was reeling. He felt as if he had just been blindsided with a punch to the guts. His, now former, best friend was spilling his secret and twisting the events they, as friends, went through, over some stupid tournament! He almost died saving the git's bloody sister! He was so mad that he missed what the two boys were saying for a minute.

"I tried to get into his trunk and throw his stuff out of here, but he had it locked and now it's gone! Where could that tosser have gone?" Ron mused loudly.

"Forget about that betraying twat for now...gobstones?"

Harry didn't hear Ron agree to play with Dean and leave. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. Ron had tried to break into his trunk and throw him out of the dorm. This went beyond any jealousy which might've been forgiven. Irreversible damage had just occurred to their friendship. His friendship with Ron Weasley would never fully recover from this.

The Chamber of Secrets and the rotting basilisk corpse didn't sound so bad now. It was a place that held rather bad memories and an ancient monster, and yet, that sounded better than being at school. Harry made up his mind after overhearing his so-called friends talk about him. He slowly crept through the common room and waited for someone to exit the common room, quickly following them. He wanted to give no clues as to his whereabouts.

It didn't take long to descend from the Gryffindor tower to the second-floor bathroom, usually haunted by Moaning Myrtle. The wailing ghost was not present and that perfectly suited to keeping his entrance into the fabled Chamber a secret. Harry opened the way and hopped down. Upon landing, he realized he had forgotten an important detail. The entrance had collapsed and only Fawkes had been able to get him out.

He looked at the mess Lockhart had caused and sighed, realizing he would need to try and burrow his way through the rock pile, towards the main Chamber entrance. Harry pulled out his wand and began levitating the rocks from the small opening he and Ron had communicated through. His hand tightened on his wand just by thinking about his former friend. How could he turn his back on Harry and accuse him of cheating, after this harrowing ordeal in the Chamber?

Slowly but surely, an opening was beginning to form. Rock after rock was moved and beads of sweat rolled down his face as he continued to try and make a hole large enough to get through. It took fifteen minutes of levitating and a couple near collapses before there was an adequate opening.

Harry climbed up the rock pile and slipped through the gap to the other side of the cave-in. Harry thought he'd feel a sense of foreboding but it never came. The massive shed skin was outside the main chamber and the door had sealed itself. Harry said _open _in parseltongue and the doors did as commanded. He slowly sauntered in and was confused by what he saw.

The massive carcass of the basilisk was still there, looking the same, as far as he could tell, from the day he left the chamber. It had not decomposed at all and didn't even smell! Furthering his befuddlement was the lack of damage to the Chamber. He distinctly remembered the basilisk causing damage as it moved around and struck at him. Instead, the Chamber of Secrets looked as it had when he first entered. Now that he thought about it further, shouldn't the place be caked in dust with so few people ever coming down here?

He looked around the chamber for further evidence of his previous time here. There was the broken fang that he used to destroy the diary but the blood from his wound was no longer staining the floor. Though he had not felt uneasiness when he first entered, he was now on edge. Even the unused classrooms had layers of dust if they hadn't been used for years, and yet, this secret chamber was spotless. Was there someone or something that cleaned it? Could it be a house-elf? Some kind of magic embedded in the Chamber? Harry continued to move towards the centre of the Chamber with his wand in his dominant hand and a clinch on it that made his knuckles pronounced and white in his exertion.

Another thought struck him, just how useless his magical education had been for practical things. It would certainly be nice to know a spell to detect people, animals, magical presences, or any kind of magical being. Instead, he had to look around like a common muggle, albeit with a magic wand in hand, not that the wand was overly useful since he knew only a few offensive spells and they weren't quick to cast. Their wand motions were not second nature to him and if anyone got a jump on him, he'd be hard-pressed to make his wand the formidable weapon he knew it was and which he should be wielding. It was closer to a fancy stick in a life and death situation, based on his magical education so far. He used his bare hands against Quirrell like a common thug. In his second year, he used a sword like a medieval muggle. At least in third year, he did disarm someone and cast the Patronus to drive off the dementors.

That encounter still had a bad taste in his mouth though. Without Sirius being an animagus, he would've been dead to rights against the werewolf. Three years of schooling and he was still rather useless, with what should've been an incredibly dangerous weapon. Instead, it was nothing more than a well-crafted stick in his hands.

The one item he had that gave him some peace of mind, while creeping around the Chamber, was his father's invisibility cloak, a family heirloom. Even then, it had been seen through by Dumbledore and it didn't make him imperceivable. Harry continued moving around as quietly as he could, looking for anything that seemed out of place. His gut, however, didn't give him the sense that there was anything to be concerned about.

After walking around the main chamber for a while, Harry was unable to detect anything suspicious. Some unexplained anomalies bothered him, particularly his blood missing, for he was unable to explain how it disappeared. The prevalent theory in his fourteen-year-old mind was that a Hogwarts house-elf cleaned the Chamber of Secrets. There was a benefit to the theory as Harry happened to know a Hogwarts elf.

Taking his cloak off, Harry tested if he was liable to be attacked by anything he had failed to detect. He stood fifteen feet away from the basilisk and called for his friend Dobby. With the standard pop, Dobby arrived, all beady-eyed, in front of Harry.

"Master Harry Potter, sir!" The elf squeaked with fanatical adoration for the teen who'd freed him.

"Hi Dobby, how are you?" However much he wanted help, it would be rude to not inquire after the elf's wellbeing, at the very least. He was also surprised that the little elf was able to pop down here. He could've helped with the cave-in.

"Great Master is too kind to ask after poor Dobby!" The quick change from excited adoration to delighted tears threw Harry off-kilter. The elf seemed unbalanced. Perhaps all the punishing from the Malfoy's knocked a few screws loose. Having not met many House Elves, Harry didn't have much of a sample size to accurately comment on how sane this particular elf was.

"Dobby be so happy now that Harry Potter calls for him! What can Is be doing for Great Master Harry Potter sir?"

Harry kind of wanted to get right to the point of calling Dobby because he still had the lingering feeling he was missing something about the Chamber.

"Dobby, do the Hogwarts elves clean this place?"

"Where be we Master Harry Potter, sir?"

Harry's head moved back half an inch in surprise. How did the elf not know he was still in Hogwarts? That question postulated practical testing but at the present point, it wasn't the time for practical tests. Perhaps later, if his plan to make this his home for the year worked, he may have the time to do just that.

"We are in the Chamber of Secrets, at Hogwarts, can't you tell?"

Dobby, for once, did not answer right away. He seemed to concentrate on…something before looking around quickly. "Dobby be knowing we's not be in Hogwarts. Magic be different but Hogwarts be...connected?" The little elf was actively trying to accurately articulate some kind of complexity about magic to Harry.

Apparently, the Chamber was more than just a hidden cave which could only be found by parselmouths. The place was clearly connected to Hogwarts however, a House Elf, one who works _at _Hogwarts, thinks they are somewhere else. Fascinating indeed, but far beyond Harry's understanding of magic. He'd love to investigate the mystery if he wasn't just too busy in a deadly tournament, finding housing for himself and figuring out how to survive on his own. He snorted at how absurd this year had become in the span of 2 days.

"Dobby, I want to move here instead of staying in the Gryffindor Tower. Can you help me with setting it up with a bedroom, furniture to study, a loo and maybe even a shower?"

"Master Harry Potter sir be staying here?" The elf didn't seem to like that answer from the obvious change in his body language.

"Yes, do you think you can help me with that?" Again, Harry was cursing how useless his education had been on practical magic. He knew it was certainly possible to transfigure items into furniture or even conjure them but he'd not learned it. Plumbing or water conjuration and vanishing would've been rather important to know right about now. Hopefully, Dobby could help in the meantime. Harry had to get to work on learning practical magic.

"There already be's a bedroom, bathroom and study heres! Master Harry Potter sir be wanting more?" The elf asked with confusion.

"There are?" Utterly bewildered, Harry blurted out the question in response. The little elf nodded enthusiastically, proud to be helping the boy who freed him. "Where?" he asked immediately.

Dobby quickly walked towards the main statue where the basilisk came out of the mouth of Salazar Slytherin but broke off to the right. He walked along the side of the pool of water and then right, to what appeared to be a dead end.

"It be's right heres." As he said it, he snapped his fingers and a faint outline of the door opened. The rectangle was illuminated as well as a single point that could where a door handle or locking mechanism would be. Harry ran his hand along the stone wall and right in the centre of the illuminated circle was a sharp point which Harry's middle fingertip ran afoul of. It pricked it enough to draw blood. Almost immediately the illuminated portion of the wall swung back from one side with the other, seemingly on a hinge.

Harry cast Lumos and looked at Dobby, "Can you tell if it is safe, Dobby?"

Dobby got a look of complete concentration on his face and he shut his eyes tight. His little hand pointed towards the door for a moment before he broke his concentration, "Dobby not be feeling any traps or humans."

Harry plucked up that ever so useful Gryffindor reckless courage and went for it. He did have the presence of mind to put on his cloak, however. Harry went through the door with Dobby trailing after him. He found himself in a rather wide hallway with multiple doors on each side.

From what he could see, there were two doors on the left and three on the right side. The first door he could reach was on the left side. Harry cast '_nox'_ to end the light from his wand as the hall seemed to have sensed his presence and lit up. Harry reached the first door and held down the handle to open it, pushing the heavy wooden door inward.

The room was illuminated and Harry was surprised to find what was inside this room. A large four-poster bed, a small fire, a bird perch and a comfortable looking armchair and couch set by the fireplace. The room was finished with a lighter coloured wood flooring with dark wood furniture and dark green, almost black, couches and linens. There were silver coloured metal accents on the furniture and they shined almost as if they were the actual metal.

Harry cautiously entered into the room and when he did, he noticed there was a large bookshelf to his right. The bed was on the far left, its back towards the entrance to the hallway he'd just entered through, the fireplace and furniture were almost directly in front and a large area rug was positioned underneath the fireplace sitting area. Harry noticed the same oddity from back in the main chamber. The place was clean and looked as if it could be a current place of habitation for Salazar Slytherin himself. It was certainly lavish enough.

Pushing the thought from his head, he crossed the room towards the door that was straight ahead on the opposite side of the door facing the hallway. It was an entrance to what looked to be a bathroom, seeing as the door was ajar. As he stepped through, he saw he was actually wrong. It was to a closet, a walk-through, a closet which leads into a bathroom.

Harry did feel eery with this discovery. Lots of clothing was hung from the racks and probably in the chest of drawers, though he was not going to open at this time. He could see Acromantula silk robes and surmised most of the wardrobe would be of high quality. Harry walked towards the bathroom and continued on through the closet and into the bathroom. Opulent was the word that came to mind. It was very bright as well. Whitestone floors that were warm, a massive tub that doubled as a pool large enough for multiple people to move around comfortably. Large counter spaces, a silver sink and dark green highlights on the mostly white and silver room. Harry had seen lavish hotel advertisements in the muggle world and 5-star felt as if it was a star short of the rating he'd give the accommodations so far. There was a distinct feeling that the elegance of the room was only possible with magic.

At the opposite end, of the ridiculously spacious bathroom, there was another door, though it was closed. Harry moved towards it with Dobby still padding on behind him. Neither was saying anything as they were investigating and observing the living quarters found within the Chamber of Secrets. Harry took the time to try the taps and dip his hand into the water to see how they fared. The water in the pool was the perfect temperature and everything worked better than he had expected. After spending time checking out the bathroom, he went into the next room.

The door opened towards him and swung back into the bathroom. Another heavy wooden door. Harry was shocked at what he was seeing. The Headmaster had a large office with endless books and ornate furniture but they paled compared to this room. It was the pinnacle of a personal study that Harry could ever imagine. Rows of perfectly ordered books, well at first glance anyway, adorned the bookcases. The bookcases looked to be hand-carved with a snake motif and the Slytherin crest. The scales on the snakes were carved and they looked almost lifelike, aside from being made of wood.

Harry took his sweet time moving through the room. It was very large for a personal study. It was so large and filled to the brim with books that it would be more accurate to call it a personal library with only a single desk to work at. Harry decided to try and open and a book. He plucked one off the shelf and opened it. He was thankful it didn't scream or anything like some books in the restricted section did the first time he was in there, under his cloak.

Instead, the book was completely blank, without a single word. Harry thought he could feel that the contents of the book were simply masked from his perception, as though he knew it was there but it was magically protecting its contents. Shrugging to himself, he put it back and tried a couple more, each time with the same results. All of the books he had tried were empty and he felt they were obscured in some magical way for some reason he hadn't grasped yet. Harry continued around the room and pulled the odd book to see the same results as with all of them.

He made his way to the massive desk that commanded the room and saw a single leather-bound black book in the middle. The rest of the desk was devoid of any further items. The large desk, which could accommodate a dozen books, had but a single plain-looking black book on it. Harry didn't really give heed to any traps as he sat in the incredibly comfortable chair and opened the first page.

_To my descendent:_

_My life's end fast approaches; my time has been nearing its end, I have long seen my death and the end of my path is almost at hand. I have quarrelled with Godric and Helga for the last time. Rowena sides with me but will not broach the issue, to the brink of where it will cause a chasm between us and thus I have decided to retire to my hidden Chamber. Only those of the serpent bloodline will be able to enter into my personal quarters. My familiar will remove anyone unworthy from gaining entry. Those that speak the Noble Tongue may gain entry into the main chamber, nevertheless, just the serpent bloodline will garner access to my quarters. This is my final place of solitude where I will spend the end of my days. My final project is of utmost importance. I have long laboured to bring about this task and seek to leave a path for worthy heirs to glean my wisdom._

_What the histories speak of me is no concern of mine. Those born of the mundane world should be treated as magical orphans and their existence wiped from the mundane world. Their lack of education, inability to navigate the magical world and ignorance slow down the entire first two years of education. Our students would be better served learning magic and theory from a young age and beginning spellcasting after their first magical maturity, aged 11. Important courses like Runic Magic and the Arithmancy of Magic could be taught prior to their magical maturity. The material covered in their final year should be taught in their fifth year followed then by two years of apprenticeship._

_A whole new wing of the Castle would need to be added. Additional staff necessary to teach and look after those students and magical orphans as well. Magical children have no place in the mundane world and every mundane that learns of us increases the threat. Already we have had to withstand multiple sieges upon our lands. Rowena understands the necessity for the academic success of our students but the unholy pair of Godric and his wife Helga refuse to consider breaking up mundane families, even when they return home and are murdered by the mundanes!_

_Our arguments are well documented and I will say no further on the matter. The two will not be swayed and Rowena is too content in her pursuit of magical knowledge to consider taking up the cause with me. Mine own endeavours have left me a broken and crippled man. I have long since lost my magical prowess, though none of the three is aware of it. Delving into ritualistic magic has left me with numerous unwanted ailments that I can no longer delay. My pursuit of advantages and power over any opponents has caught up to me. My line will die with me as I have intended. I have sired progeny however none will carry my name on. They may be spawned by mine own loins and carry my blood within, but they won't be my heirs. Only those with the ability to heed my words, who yearn for knowledge and accept wisdom will be worthy. Slytherin is a name for a true heir of mine. My seed and blood do not make one entitled to be the heir of Salazar Slytherin._

_My firstborn son, to the only wife I took, was a simple proof of it. The boy was too eager to follow in my footsteps. He failed to understand the consequences of his actions as he tried to gain my notoriety. The boy was foolish, naive, and power-hungry. His arrogance and lack of wisdom caused his death and the heart of my wife as well. I fathered him the best I could and the boy failed to heed my words. I lead him to the fountain of wisdom but he would not drink of it. The great sorcerers of magic have oft let their name pass on and while I have accepted that I will not pass mine name to any of those I have directly sired, my hope is one day someone will prove worthy of my name. A gifted heir that will heed my teachings and allow my mistakes, forged through mine own failures, to temper them with experience and wisdom._

_You who have found this book and are currently reading it have passed the first set of tests. You were able to find the hidden chamber of mine, speaks the Noble Tongue and have bypassed the protector of my private sanctuary and also have proved cunning enough to find that which is not obvious. You have the potential to be great, a true Serpent Lord, continue to prove yourself worthy. Contained within this book is the path to becoming more than even myself._

_Magical power on its own does not make one formidable. Magical power without knowledge is wasted. Power and knowledge without being tempered by experience are impotent. My purpose in writing this book is to pass on my wisdom, knowledge, experience. To create a path to power that will allow you to become more than myself. My lack of experience and knowledge led to mistakes, which have now caught up to me. I have not been a true power, in magic, for a few years now. My magic is weak, my body failing, but my mind is as sharp as ever. It is my mind that has kept the facade of my greatness intact._

Harry was enraptured as he continued reading until his stomach growled loudly. He realized he had missed lunch and was now well into dinner time. He'd continued reading the anecdotes of the infamous founder. The introduction went page by page and seemed to have a way of determining if he actually read the words or not. It was disconcerting, much like the Chamber itself, yet more comfortable than being in the castle proper. Harry looked around to see if Dobby was around. He had gotten engrossed in the book and forgotten about the diminutive being.

"Dobby?" He called out sceptically after not seeing him.

He popped into existence. "Yes, Master Harry Potter sir?"

The elf was far too excitable in his talking and general demeanour. He was a good friend and useful person, who was totally loyal, and that was what mattered right now.

"If I stay here are you able to help me out with food, drinks and clothes and stuff? I brought my trunk and everything and I can stay in the room here this year if you can help with that stuff."

Dobby actually frowned at that. "You means bes like your elf?" Harry couldn't tell if that was asked in muted excitement or if it was upsetting him that he was being asked to not be free. So he backtracked.

"Sorry Dobby, I thought you'd want to help me but if it means you have to do something you don't want to, then I'll figure something out…" Harry wasn't really sure what he was going to do. He could sneak to the kitchens but he'd be found out rather quickly then. Someone would notice, probably Dumbledore, and catch up to him. He was hoping to go off the grid except during the tasks.

Harry hadn't noticed Dobby's eyes tearing up as his eyes had dropped along with his head. The elf was so overcome with happiness he hadn't been able to respond. Harry's own insecurity was rearing its ugly head, thinking another person was going to reject him.

Dobby launched himself at the raven-haired teenager saying yes over and over at how excited he was. He'd never thought he'd be worthy enough for Harry Potter. The miscommunication was solved and Dobby bonded.

With the day getting away, Harry only ate dinner then set himself up, not having even explored the other side of the hall. Dobby had and told him there was a larger library with all blank books, a potions lab and a large room for practising magic and physical training.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry trudged into another day of classes. Today was Thursday and the first class was Transfiguration with Ravenclaw. He'd already experienced the other house's feelings towards him being the 4th champion. Harry's wonderful luck had his very first class after being selected as a champion be Herbology.

The course was taught by the Head of Hufflepuff and if that wasn't rotten enough, the Gryffindors were paired with the Hufflepuffs. Sprout made it very clear how happy she was with Harry for being selected as a champion. He'd lost house points before in Herbology when he had deserved, on rare occasions. Sprout had always been genial and fair to Gryffindor. Two days after his name coming out of the accursed goblet, her entire demeanour towards him changed. She channelled her inner Snape and made it clear he was persona non grata in her greenhouse.

The class felt the same as the worst potions classes with the Slytherins. He was actively sabotaged by his classmates and she turned a blind eye like Snape. Macmillan and Abbot acted like they were Malfoy and Parkinson. Sprout ignored it and took off needless points for him just breathing the same air, it seemed. She even allowed a group of three so that Harry couldn't have a partner. How he made it out of class without a detention, he didn't know.

His two former best friends had partnered up with others and given him the cold shoulder. Ron even glared at him and smirked at him being picked on by another member of the faculty. Snape was only worse in that he actively insulted both Harry, Gryffindors and James Potter. Sprout didn't drop to quite that level, not that it made Harry feel any better.

Herbology was followed by Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins and that did not add anything positive to his day. Hagrid had been standoffish to him, unsure on how to act considering Harry's two friends were antagonistic or outright ignoring him. Divination comprised his afternoon and was filled with predictions of his imminent suffering and death. Harry took all of his meals in the Chamber and used the map and his cloak to navigate around. Day after day he saw no understanding, no compassion, no kindness. Hatred and contempt lurked all around him and they were only buoyed by indifference to his loneliness.

Tuesday brought History of Magic in the morning and Potions in the afternoon. He did not deign to go to 'nap time'. Instead, he continued reading and learning from the works of Salazar Slytherin. Potions was as bad as he expected. Wednesday he only bothered to leave the chamber for Charms class, where at least Flitwick didn't loathe him by sight. Thursday was the day he had hoped would be helpful. Double Transfiguration with his Head of House.

Harry took off his cloak in an alcove not far from the classroom and walked cautiously towards the classroom. He'd been hexed more than once in the hallways and was now wary of any approaching student. He'd taken to walking with his wand in hand. He rounded the corner and took the half dozen steps and entered the classroom.

Upon entering he could already see Hermione was paired up with Lavender and Ron with Seamus. Everyone was ignoring his looks. Su Li put her book bag onto the empty seat beside her when she caught him looking at the open place beside her. Harry sighed understanding how this was going to be. Harry found an open pairing and sat down there. He was in the back right corner of the classroom. Only Parvati and Padma Patil sat behind him. He'd taken to sitting in the periphery of the classrooms so he could see potential sabotage or hexes coming easier.

McGonagall made her way to the front and began lecturing on cross-species transfiguration and Harry zoned out. He had read the chapter ahead of time and was well aware of the theory already. He was thinking about what he should do. His time in the castle was making him dread every second he spent out of the Chamber of Secrets. Everyone hated him or was indifferent. Even his father's two best friends were useless. Sirius sent a short reply to listen to Dumbledore and follow his advice. Remus hadn't even written back. He was with Sirius wherever they were at, as they both signed the same useless letter back to him.

McGonagall caught Harry not paying attention.

"Mr Potter" Her voice rang out through the deadly quiet atmosphere like a hot knife through butter. Harry perked back up and focused back on what was going on in class again.

"Care to repeat what I've just said?" She gave him her stern glare.

Harry quickly glanced around with just his eyes and saw there was no help from any other students. He didn't have to speak as the Transfiguration Mistress easily could see he had not been listening.

"Would you care to enlighten us as to what was more interesting than paying attention to your professor?" She continued to try and drill his into his head with her piercing gaze.

"Nothing professor." He responded knowing he was caught zoned out. Excuses that he already knew the material wouldn't help him in the least when she was looking at him like that. They never worked for anyone else before and he wouldn't start now.

"Detention tonight with me." She glared at him one final time and the continued lecturing.

Harry glanced around the room again and caught the smug look on Ron's face. Seamus and Dean sported similar looks. In fact, most of the room seemed rather jovial at him be handed out a detention.

x-x-x-x-x-x

After a week of being in the Chamber of Secrets, for the first time, Harry felt at ease with his new accommodations. He wasn't at the Dursley home, where he was treated as a slave. He wasn't at the overcrowded Weasley home and he also wasn't in a dorm room full of snoring boys. No shared accommodation at all. He was in a place for just himself. That was the crux of the situation, really.

Harry had always tried to find adults to rely on. He had always yearned for a family. For somebody to come and be his knight. A saviour to love and protect him. It was a dream he'd always had. Growing up in a dank cupboard and being mistreated had left its mark. A family, love, support was what he wanted. When Hagrid knocked down the door, that was what he saw.

Finally, somebody was coming for him! Just him!. Rather, it was an introduction into a new world which also treated him poorly. New bullies to pick on him that the teachers ignored. New trouble to get into, to try and help those that he thought cared about him. Instead, he now had a new list of people who were nought but acquaintances.

Albus Dumbledore controlled his life and sent him to live with his Aunt and Uncle. The man that never told him what was truly going on. He gave only enough information to sate you while holding back the real substance. He'd never been told just why he was so important to Riddle, even when he'd asked in his first year. The dementor induced memory of what really happened on October 31st, 1981 was clear. Voldemort was willing to spare his mother to kill him. _He _was the target, not his parents. He always wanted to know why and had asked, only to never be told. He was given platitudes and fed milk when he wanted substance. He was treated like a baby in terms of dispensing information. There was something at work with Dumbledore that Harry could not trust.

Far too many questions that he had not riddled out yet. Why did Hagrid have his bank key? Why did Dumbledore not give his father's cloak back to him immediately if he had it? What happened to his parent's stuff. All he had were the photos from Hagrid and a cloak. Didn't his parents and grandparents have physical items? Their home was attacked but now, apparently, it was a monument of some kind. Even Neville had his Dad's wand!

Where were his parent's wands and why did Harry not have them? The Hogwarts books for most core subjects were the same as when his parents went to school- could he not have used theirs? Given the money in the trust vault, there must be more somewhere with records of their previous financial statements. Nobody had offered to take him to see the final resting place of his parents and Albus Dumbledore, his magical guardian, should have done so. Was he really bound to compete as Crouch and Dumbledore told him? There was far too much that didn't add up around the headmaster to trust him.

His parent's best friends hadn't even truly looked out for him. Remus Lupin had taught him the Patronus charm but Harry had to almost beg him for it! Aside from that, he'd never offered to help the only child of his best friends. Where was he during the other dozen years of his life? Why did he not help, or even visit, Harry when he was growing up. The man had, negligently, tried to kill Harry when he hadn't taken his Wolfsbane Potion. Then he ran away again after being outed as a werewolf by Snape. He wouldn't have even bothered to say goodbye if Harry hadn't caught him in the act. Then, he hadn't even sent any letters or anything. If 'best friends' were the same as Ron was to him, then he certainly understood Lupin's actions.

Ron was a friend with deep issues that never let him be truly loyal. He was a fair-weather friend. When things were going well he would bask in the relationship. When he felt slighted and perceived something to be jealous and petty about he broke the friendship. Normally he turned back into being his 'best friend' again shortly afterwards. For Harry, that meant he was never truly a friend in the first place. There were things in Ron's life that were far more important than his friendship with Harry. If those things were limited to blood family he would have understood. When the more important things to Ron were fame, fortune and being more than a sidekick, Harry failed to understand.

Sirius, his father's best mate, had a similar issue. Sirius had far too many trivial priorities ahead of taking care of his godson. He was supposed to look after Harry like a parent if anything happened to his. Due to his own actions, he never was able to. Further, he was also not a suitable adult figure to learn from or emulate to any real degree. The man had prioritized revenge over Harry not once, but twice! When he freed himself, he didn't even try and contact Harry or set things right. He didn't try and get legal help or prove his case. All he cared about, again, was killing the traitor. He certainly had James Potter at the very top of his priority list but that did not transfer to his duty as a godfather. Harry was yet again, an afterthought. Harry had even gone back in time with Hermione and saved the man's life. Sirius still had more urgent matters – running off to a tropical island and living it up was the correct thing to do, apparently.

Harry lived behind blood wards and apparently the safest place for him during the summer. The ministry had never even stepped foot on the property and they hadn't deemed any reason for extra protection at all. Instead of finding a way to visit Harry or even stay with him in secret, he left. Sending only token letters to keep in contact. It was as if the gift of his Firebolt would make it all better. Harry really thought that it was guilt or just wanting to buy his affections. Perhaps it was a desire to see Harry fly, so he was reminded of his best friend, James Potter.

Whatever Sirius Black's reasons were, Harry knew the man didn't care about him like his parents would have hoped. He cared, he just did not care enough to put Harry at the top of the things most important to him. Practical jokes, seducing women, running from his family legacy, living a carefree life were what mattered to him. If Harry could find a way to assist in those areas, he would be a great fit. If he could vicariously live through Harry in one of those areas, he would be all over it. Harry could well imagine the letter he would get back if he asked for help seducing girls or pranking Slytherins. Sending one asking for help from a life-threatening tournament, he only got a lame response about listening to the man who had failed to protect him from it in the first place! One of the few adults who had Harry near the top of their priority list was, ironically, Severus Snape.

The man had caught some kind of ceaseless contagion to ensure he hates Harry Potter. Remus hinted it was something to do with his dad and Snape's comments that he was like his father were the trail of breadcrumbs to validate that theory. Snape had incessantly picked on him and destroyed his potions education. He'd protected his Slytherin's when they bullied and sabotaged Harry, or anyone in general, and was an absolutely horrible professor. Harry had no idea why Dumbledore would ever let that man teach, though there had to be a good reason.

Snape was always at important meetings or events. Why was he in the meeting with the school heads when his name came out? Moody as a former auror, his presence made sense. McGonagall is his Head of House and the Deputy Headmistress, it was simply logical she was there. Snape had no business being there! His only contribution to the whole meeting was harassing a fourteen-year-old orphan, one who was being railroaded into participating in a deadly tournament for of-age wizards and witches. Snape was the man who'd ruined Lupin's teaching career and kept Black from being set free. He even tried to get the man killed. His hatred of James Potter and his friends ran far too deep. How Dumbledore allowed him to even be around him was a wonder.

Hermione had been the one that cut the deepest. She had been saved by him in his first year and was steadfast in her support of him, mostly. Harry had not really noticed it until he truly began to reflect back on his life at Hogwarts. The girl was his friend so long as it came after what was important to her. In fact, most of his friendship with her could be explained by her desires and not actually being his friend. She desired to not be alone and be a cast out. Befriending the most famous student at the school achieved that. It also ensures she gained the notoriety she wanted for her academic achievements. She valued authority and knowledge far more than his friendship. She never truly understood Harry. How could she, when she and Ron never asked him many personal questions? They were never interested in getting to know Harry Potter just him as the boy-who-lived.

In the end, Harry realized there wasn't a single adult in the muggle or wizarding worlds he could trust to look out for his interests. Every single one of them who should've helped look after his safety and well being had failed in unconscionable ways. He'd never had any real friends. He was willing to put his life on the line for his best friend's sister. He was willing to give his life to stop a madman and perhaps that was what they wanted all along...

Neville's family was targeted like Harry's was. His parents were tortured into insanity and yet he was okay to live in the wizarding world. It was fine for Harry to live at the Leaky Cauldron while the apparent right-hand man of Voldemort himself was actively trying to kill him, no issues spending huge bouts of time in Diagon Alley, unsupervised even, while any wizard could have a chance to abduct him. But Harry had to grow up with muggles who hated him and return there every year. There was no rational thought process which allowed that to make sense in Harry's mind.

No, at the end of the day Harry was on his own, just as he always had been. He really only trusted Dobby and Hedwig. Everyone else he knew, he just couldn't trust, after really taking the time to examine his life. With a little luck, he'd found his way into what could possibly be a mentor. The memoirs and magic left behind by Salazar Slytherin. Harry had read incessantly in the man's personal study all about his history. He'd lived a hard life and admitted to being too power-hungry, too eager for infamy and not wise. With age came wisdom and he was a teacher at heart in his older years. He was three decades older than Godric, Harry had discovered. He was in his 70s by the time Hogwarts was proposed.

He had already married and buried the love of his life. He'd had to personally end the life of his own son, bringing about his wife's death. He admitted he did not have the heart to confirm if she'd killed herself or if natural heartbreak and the loss of her will to live did her in. By this point in time, he was already notorious as someone you dared not cross. A powerful wizard that was the epitome of ambition and cunning. He was renowned for being politically savvy and ruthless in ensuring he got what he wanted.

There were scant few details so far, but the man painted quite the tale to open his memoir. Understanding that power was a means to an end, that it was not in and of itself a worthy goal. Gaining power for the sake of having more power was what had led him to his downfall. Sacrificing trivial things that built up over time to undo all of his hard work. By the time when he was founding Hogwarts, he was already aware he was declining. Powerful wizards could live to be two hundred years old and three decades short of his reaching the first century, he was deteriorating. The decline for a wizard normally began prior to being 100 but it was a slow and steady erosion of magical and physical abilities. Salazar had become almost unimaginably powerful for just half a century, then he had a sharp decline. Harry wondered if this was what led to the twisting of the story.

There was a fallout with two of the three other founders and frustration at the third, however, Salazar had not indicated any altercations beyond a verbal disagreement, only a difference of opinions on how to best educate students. Salazar wanted to push their education standards to their zenith at the cost of taking mundane children from their parents. It was hard to tell for sure, but it seemed like Slytherin had a rather rough upbringing and had an inability to appreciate the importance of families raising their children. Nothing that he read hinted that Salazar was a bigot of the highest order who fought to rule over or kill mundanes as he was now portrayed.

Perhaps the voluntary isolation, as he could not stand to see himself decline in front of others, was the cause to the generally accepted theory of him being a pureblood supremacist. It was something to consider looking into and yet Harry's attention was on continuing to read the memoir. Apparently, it was going to teach him and Harry was eager to see where it got started. He looked up from the book when he heard Dobby pop into existence beside him with a plate of food.

"Lunch for Master Harry!" Dobby exclaimed with his usual excitement. It had taken multiple conversations to shorten 'Great Master Harry Potter sir' into just 'Master Harry'. Dobby refused to not acknowledge him as 'Master'. Harry tried pointing out friends don't call each other master but the elf steadfastly refused.

"Thanks, Dobby. How are you today?" Harry was doing his best to try and turn the relations closer to that of friends instead of servant and master. Asking how Dobby's day was did seem to confuse the little guy for a few days. It was something he'd never had to respond to before.

"Dobby be good and Dobby be having news, Master Harry."

Harry turned from his food to look at the elf. "What kind of news?" he asked aloud.

"Headmaster be searching for yous. Yous been missing and they think you have run away."

Ah, Harry had been so engrossed in his new solitary dwelling that he'd forgotten that leaving the castle life abruptly would draw attention. He should have realized it but he hadn't even considered it at all. Oh, he'd also forgotten to make sure he could see Hedwig… That was seriously not a good idea. The owl was going to be so angry at him for this. Realizing which situation was more important, he made immediate plans to react accordingly.

"Dobby, do you know if there's a way to be able to let Hedwig in here?"

The elf closed his eyes and concentrated again. Harry had asked him about it earlier in the week. Dobby had said it was how he focused on feeling his surroundings. Extending and focusing his senses to find out more about his dwelling. It was House Elf magic he'd learned and used for a long time.

"There be charmed wall where the owl can get through. Dobby be doing it," the little elf popped away before Harry could respond to go do the work.

That meant Harry could send out letters. He'd not thought about the fact nobody could contact him while he was here. That was certainly an issue to consider. Harry felt his list was growing longer, day after day, of all the items he needed to look into. First and foremost still was securing his own future. If he actually had to compete in the tournament and looking into how to become independent. A visit to Gringotts might be prudent to find out about a full accounting of his assets. A trust vault implies there is more than just what is held in the trust vault. In the muggle world, often rich kids were given a set amount until they became adults. Perhaps it was the same in the wizarding world.

That rocketed to the top of his list. Visit Gringotts and see if they are aware of how to become an adult in the Wizarding World. He should probably ask what types of services they offer to their clients and see if they can help him with anything else. At this point, he was more likely to trust a business than a person. Businesses were about making a profit and as long as they could make a profit by servicing their clients, they should be somewhat trustworthy. He'd have to be careful to read everything clearly before signing, however.

Now though, he had to write a note for Hogwarts. What should he tell them? 'I am hidden and you will never find me hahaha' might be fun to send. No, he should mislead them to make them look elsewhere for him. He'd not put it past Dumbledore to send people searching for him. Sending them on a bit of a wild goose chase would be for the best. With that in mind, he wrote out a letter to send.

_To Whom It May Concern,_

_As I have been named a Triwizard Tournament Champion of no school, I have sought to remove myself from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My fellow Gryffindors and the school's population made it clear I am not their Champion and I have removed myself. There were hexes, curses, verbal remarks, and physical demonstrations that I was persona-non-grata in the school, yet again. After my trunk was attempted to be broken into, I no longer felt safe. Many of the altercations which led to this belief occurred in front of Hogwarts staff and they took no action. I even became the focus of their ire for something beyond my control._

_I am a Champion for an undesignated school and am seeking education alternatives at this time. I am withdrawing from Hogwarts this year. Regardless of my withdrawal, as a Champion, I am excused from classes, detentions, and examinations. I will not be at Hogwarts while learning and have been given no information on the first task other than the fact it is on November 24th. Please provide any further details for events or requirements for the Champion's attendance by mail with Hedwig. My owl is the only one able to reach me at this time._

_Harry Potter_

While writing the letter Harry came to the realization he should send it to McGonagall. She wrote the letters for Hogwarts and he wouldn't put it past the Headmaster to try and use Hedwig to find him. Well, Hedwig may actually be a bad option. They could try and keep her hostage. Now that he considered it further, Harry thought there was a rather small chance they wouldn't try and track Hedwig. He was a runaway celebrity after all. Perhaps a different solution…

"Dobby"

"Yes Master Harry," he said after appearing out of thin air.

"Can you deliver a letter to Professor McGonagall?"

"Of course Master Harry! Dobby can be doing!" he replied exuberantly.

"Okay, I'm going to send Hedwig to Gringotts and when she leaves, can you deliver it then to the professor?" Dobby nodded and Harry handed the elf the letter before he left.

Harry then composed his letter to Gringotts.

_Dear Gringotts,_

_I am Harry James Potter and have only been to your bank on a couple of occasions. I was told the vault I access is a trust vault. This has led to my suspicion that I possibly have more than a single vault or the vault that I am using has limits given my status as a minor. I was hoping to find out more about what assets I am entitled to at this point in time and what is to come in the future. If there is a person to ask for when I come to the bank next, please advise me so I can best follow your procedures._

_The other item I would like to ask about is if you are able to provide a list of services Gringotts offers its clients. A description of the service and the cost would also be appreciated. As I was muggle raised I am unaware of your complete service offerings. I am currently housed in a location that will only accept mail from my owl. I have instructed her to remain until a reply is ready._

_Respectfully yours,_

_Harry James Potter_

Harry tied the note and Hedwig had already landed at the desk in front of him. She always had a knack of knowing when she was needed. With that, Harry decided this was enough for the day and to get back to the memoir of Salazar Slytherin. His best guess was, as he worked through the memoir, more books in the library would stop being blank. How the magic worked, Harry had no idea. The magic that Salazar had cast to guide this place was simply astounding. He realized he shouldn't expect less from a founder of such a marvellous school.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by Nauze 11/3/19
> 
> This is the first fanfiction I've written/published. I've read quite a bit of Harry Potter fanfiction in the past couple years and I began looking for specific plots and on occasion I failed to find them. Thus began my entry into creative writing as I let my mind wonder how ideas and concepts would work out. I've outlined quite a few in very rough fashion. This fanfiction is the result of about half a dozen concepts joining together. With this being an introduction they haven't really shown up yet. Here are a few questions I had:
> 
> How did the Chamber of Secrets stay a secret for so long?
> 
> How did the Triwizard Tournament stay so small time?
> 
> How could Harry see Remus and Sirius actions leading into 4th year as okay?
> 
> Where did all of Harry's parents and grandparents stuff go? Did they have no friends?
> 
> How would Harry become Voldemort's equal? He wasn't at the end of the prophecy.
> 
> Why is Britain so insular in the magical world?
> 
> I'll work through a few thoughts on the first question. There were parselmouths that were in the wizarding world before Tom Riddle and Harry Potter. Not a single student had been able to find it or if they did had never bragged about knowing about it? Myths like the Lochness Monster have been studied and researched for years and the wizarding world wouldn't for the CoS? Must be something more to it than Riddle being the first person to find it.
> 
> I've enjoyed conceiving and working through these concepts and thought maybe there are others that would be interested in reading it. If there's little interest then I'll continue my hobby of outlining ideas that pique my interest. This fic is looking to be a 1 year-ish fic. The concepts I'm interested in get explored within two years. I don't have new ones or thoughts on how to extend it into a multi-year fic of quality. It could change or my plan of 1 year-ish of setting up a new different Harry Potter with epilogue works best. I've not written anything that would be considered creative writing before so my first chapter could be rather poorly done and not interesting enough to continue.


	2. Discovery

_Students of magic need to understand two basic facts before undertaking their tutelage in magical studies. The first is the most important and it is simply that magic is sentient. The second required understanding is that there are four basic pillars of magic: intent, willpower, creativity and magical power. It is obvious to any rational thinking person who studies magic that it is sentient. How else would it be able to discern the true intent of the caster? You cannot make a binding oath without the intention to do so. You can have all the requirements of creating a binding oath but without the intent to enter into it the oath will not bind. Magic protects and understands those who interact with it. Always respect the sentience of magic- only a fool would dare to defy it._

_The four pillars of magic need to be thought of not as singular support columns as they are all intricately connected. Intent without willpower, creativity and power is nothing more than an idle thought or actionless conjecture. Without one they all fail and it is of the utmost importance to understand this. Magic is a dynamic force that is fluid and not static. There are no set rules for how much of each aspect is required for magic to be undergone successfully. There are basic guidelines and these explain why the curriculum is structured as it is._

_With magic, there are multiple branches and the distinctions for branches of magical study is inherently linked back to the four pillars. Transfiguration is a branch of magic that is most heavily dependent on willpower and creativity. Intent is always required as you are changing the basic structure of an item. Once this base level of intent is achieved it no longer requires mentioning. Magical power is important in Transfiguration at the highest tiers and most difficult of acts. Though it is akin to the requirement of flour and baking bread. There is a minimum amount needed to be able to bake a loaf of bread and flour beyond the required amount is of little use. It is willpower that is the dominant pillar. Magic is sentient and both inanimate and, especially, animate subjects have a natural state of being. Using magic to override their base form requires the willpower to overcome the inherent resistance against change. Magic itself understands the base form and to successfully overcome that, it requires willpower. Creativity or imagination is paramount to the process, as creating a clear idea of what it will be changed to will reduce the willpower and magical power inputs required for success._

_Charms, Hexes, and Curses are all very similar and can be lumped into a single category. Hexes do not require much in the way of willpower or magical power. Charms require more magical power than hexes and curses require more willpower and some require more magical power. In general, hexes are easily cast and normally non-damaging. Charms are like the larger older brother of hexes. They are cut from the same cloth but are more difficult to handle. Curses are charms that have been compartmentalized into a new category simply because their intent is to cause harm. A fool would call Curses a Dark magic and claim they are simply evil. Those with wisdom understand that causing harm is correlated with Dark magic or evil acts but they are not mutually inclusive. Self-defence would fall within the use of curses for a righteous act._

_The magic behind Hexes relies more heavily on intent and creativity than willpower or magical power. Intent is often praised as the most important aspect of magic. In a sense it is true. Without intent, magic is not possible. In Transfiguration, intent is relegated to a switch. It is either on or off. With hexes, intent mirrors the flow of water. You can intend just a little, like a meandering stream, or you can intend something as strongly as the greatest rivers. Creativity is important again though for hexes intent is primarily the catalyst for success. Charms are heavily fueled with intent and magical power. At the height of Charms, willpower can make a good charm become great._

_Creativity and imagination are often thought to make Charms Masters. There is a fallacy here though as most Charms Masters are imaginative as they have a wide array of charms that they are capable of using in inventive ways. However, casting the charms themselves requires far less creativity than intent and power. The fallacy is creatively using charms can help one become a master at using the charms, not just casting them. A tongue-tying hex is rather easy to imagine. Freezing water is easy to picture and, though Charms Masters are typically creative themselves, using the actual magic requires very little of it in comparison to Transfiguration. Curses are similar to charms, though they do require more willpower. It is easy to lock up someone's legs with a leg locking hex. It takes internal fortitude, or willpower, to use magic to remove their legs entirely. Intent is the primary element as you must intend the actual effect of the magic cast, the secondary being power, as charms can be under and overpowered with many having a base requirement for successful casting, and the willpower to go through with the act. Willpower bleeds into both intent and power in both charms and curses. All the pillars of magic are intricately connected. The resolve to defend oneself can increase your intent or push our body to exude more magical power into a charm._

Harry rubbed his forehead as he finished the paragraph. He was stupefied by the failure of Hogwarts educational system. Either Salazar Slytherin was a masterful teacher and could write a memoir that taught better than actually living professors a millennium later or the educational standards had slipped rather far. He was processing the information on the basic pillars of magic and how they interacted with each other. He already had his mind expanded when reading the section on introduction to potions. Understanding why a love potion could not create love. Potions could mimic love but not create it. They can create the actions that follow love, like infatuation, but not the original intent.

Reading this allowed him to practically think back to his first-year lessons. Not even Flitwick had explained the magical theory like this. They talked about it in very broad strokes in the textbook and in class. Only explaining that you had to mean the charm to happen or you had to concentrate hard to make transfigurations successful. Was this understanding not common knowledge? It was puzzling because it all seemed rather simple now. It made sense why he failed at casting charms when he wasn't really trying in class.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was an amalgamation of charms and transfiguration with more focused being on jinxes and hexes. Harry had wondered why he was the top student in DADA and not in charms and transfiguration. Now it made more sense. In transfiguration, he concentrated because it was required but he wouldn't venture to say he used his willpower. He was going through the motions to complete the work and not focusing his willpower on the task. Even the creativity required he'd not done well on because it wasn't clear to him that it was required.

Now though, he understood, and began working through the transfigurations that he wanted and found he was far more gifted in the art than he'd ever thought. Harry understood what he needed to do and how to go about doing it now. Charms made more sense as he never used much intent in his studies. Was it really important to be able to cast all the silly charms? He'd not thought so which meant his intent was lacking. This basic understanding was going to change his entire magical education. He felt like he'd been putting a puzzle together without knowing what the final picture should look like. The picture wasn't needed to complete the puzzle. It just made it substantially easier. He understood how the different parts are supposed to fit together.

Harry had already read the part on Charms and Transfiguration a few times and he was reading the part that he'd kept skipping. The book had not added new words any longer and Harry thought it must be because he kept skipping the section on Rituals. He'd been told by Dumbledore that Tom Riddle underwent many rituals to become the monster- Lord Voldemort. It had taken his humanity and left behind a powerful monster. Harry had no will to follow Voldemort's path and so he kept skipping the section. He had the choice to skip it taken from him. If he wanted to progress further through the book he had to read the section on rituals. Eventually, he decided to read it. Learning about them did not mean he had to undergo them.

_Rituals are an old form of magic and are incredibly dangerous. The risk with rituals is how imprecise they are. To understand the concept you can compare it to the art of making potions. Both use reagents and have steps to follow to obtain a specific result. In potions when coming up with a new formula, trial and error are the primary sources. The result of a bad potion can be contained within the potion itself. It can be tested on animals or on humans with their results studied. Through the long process of creating a new formula, unexpected or unintended consequences can be sorted out to bring about the final intended function of the potion. Explosions and melted cauldrons can be stopped by proper safety techniques. The danger in making new potions can be reduced so there is very limited risk to the brewer._

_Rituals are like potions except the magic is contained by the witch or wizard instead of a potion. Any mistakes are borne on the one undergoing the ritual. The practice of rituals has been studied for centuries, it has set formulae to achieve specific results that have been tested throughout the years. The various magical reagents have catalogued properties and interactions. They are dangerous only for the novice who fails to heed the precise nature of them or to the one experimenting with a new ritual. Rituals require precision and accuracy to be performed correctly._

_My hubris is where I have failed. Though none alive and none before me are as accomplished as I in the art of rituals, I failed to heed the two truths of magic. The mistakes were minor and I overlooked the compounding nature of them. Some that have dabbled in the art have tried new rituals that would've brought them power and their errors cost them dearly. I have seen the effects of botched rituals. From the loss of one's mind, magic, changes that are inhuman, even to the mutilation of one's own humanity. The rituals I will advocate for my future progeny will be of balance and those tested extensively._

_Rituals are a branch of magic that can be thought of as permanent potions for the witch or wizard. Most rituals have negligible or minor specific effects. There is a hair loss potion and there is a reciprocal ritual that can make it permanent. Because of their permanence, their effects are often muted. The most powerful rituals are the most dangerous and costly for errors. The same way there are potions too complicated for novices, there are rituals too complicated for those not practised in the art. Rituals have another drawback in that they are less precise than what is often desired. While the potion for improving one's memory is rather strong, and its effects are short term, to gain the corresponding result would take no less than seven rituals. The specific combination that I am aware of, is also less precise. The seven rituals would also add other elements that were not supplied by the potion that is dangerous and unstable._

_For my heirs, I have designed a series of rituals that are intended to give an advantage over regular adversaries. The designs are specific and must be followed precisely. I have toiled for decades to design a series of rituals for my heirs. Other families have a small series of family rituals that they undertake and their practices are guarded zealously. I spent much of my early adult life seeking out the mysteries of magic and would do whatever it was necessary to achieve my goals. I have uncovered family secrets that have been protected for centuries. When I boast there is none more learned than I in the art of ritualistic magic it is not done out of hubris or idly._

_There is a final risk to Rituals that is not as well understood. It is the concept of magical balance. Magic is sentient and abusing magic has consequences. I cannot overstate or repeat it enough. Rituals are a way to add to your magical potential. There are unnatural acts that bring about the ire of magic. Most scoff and disregard the very idea. Ritualistic magic is where the very vindictive nature of magic can be evidenced. Magic wants balance and there is also importance to specific signs, sigils, and numbers. With Rituals, it is important to not become more than you are able to be. That you do not push the boundaries of the natural beyond where they are found. There are costs for doing so. Numbers also have power._

_To achieve balance, I have designed a set of rituals that are done for each aspect: seven rituals for the mind, seven for physical rejuvenation, seven for magical rejuvenation, seven for magical strength, seven for physical strength, seven for magical abilities and seven specialized powerful rituals. The rituals are designed for enhancing the entire person and not just specific aspects. The seven sets of seven rituals are also of the utmost importance. Some families did only three rituals, other seven and a few ever considered either three sets of seven or seven sets of three. Finding balance and not accruing side effects is an arduous task for the foremost experts in the understanding of Ritualistic Magic. The background information is simply not compiled in any single library if it is necessary to move beyond twenty-one rituals. Decades of accumulating knowledge led to pushing beyond twenty-one to the next available balanced magical number: seven sets of seven rituals._

_In sheer numbers, undertaking rituals in three sets of three sets of seven rituals is the next pedestal of magical balance for a total of sixty-three individual rituals. One must note that the next balance point is not possible if you have done seven sets of seven already. The target of three sets of three sets of seven is only achievable to the one who had gone the path of completing twenty-one rituals. It is the next pedestal of balance for those that undertake the twenty-one. Each set focuses on a specific attribute. Finding seven rituals that do not clash or have ill side effects is rather difficult. I did try and design such a process but found the expected results to be far too unstable for my liking. The final rituals to reach thirteen and fourteen became far too easy to err in completing._

_Those that have gone on to seven sets of seven their next pedestal of magical balance would be three sets of seven sets of seven rituals or one hundred and forty-seven individual rituals. I, the foremost expert in the field, toiled for decades to find a way to achieve forty-nine balanced rituals. Trying to achieve the next pedestal is indubitably inconceivable. Perhaps if my knowledge was copied over and I lived multiple lifetimes it could be possible, for me, to consider. I would estimate, at minimum, five centuries of experimentation to complete it as one would have to devise half of the newly required rituals on their own._

_Balance is a necessity. Completing a fiftieth ritual would bring imbalance and wreak havoc on the person. How the imbalance affects the person depends on the whole equation. Some will lose control of their magic, others their body, or parts of their body, for some, their minds or aspects of it. There is the possibility of varying degrees of all of them and it is where we can see the sentience of magic. The resulting punishment for being out of magical balance is correlated to their intention. Those who try and gain too much power lose the ability to effectively wield their imbalanced power. Changes to their body and mind are most common. I have seen one that delved too far into increasing the mental faculties and they lost the physical ability to communicate in any way. Incapable of speech and unable to move their body. All their brilliance locked into their own mind. I cannot state it enough: Magic is sentient and magic is to be respected._

Potions and Rituals… Harry had skimmed the next part seeing it was a ritual to be undergone by himself. A ritual for his mind. Three deceased animals, runes painted in his own blood, and a potion that Salazar had devised were the components of the first ritual. It looked rather simple but it was also really a precipice. If what he read was true if he did one he was obligated to do at least three or seven. He did not have the expertise to know if that would keep him in balance with magic though. That meant he would have to do the whole planned set of procedures. Forty-nine rituals in total with most completed on the third and seventh days of the week. The book went on to explain further about rituals and how to prepare and undertake them.

Beyond the third and seventh days of the week, there were other days of importance. Some required elements that necessitated specific days that were not the third or seventh of the week. The transformation he would undergo doing the rituals would take just less than half a year. Two per week meant less than twenty-five weeks. If some weeks included three then even less time would be required. Still, it was a decision that he had to consider carefully. Could he trust the memoirs of a man that the murderer of his parents idolized? Could imbalance or abuse of magic be the reason for Riddle to have become a monster?

Really though, could he trust the founder? Salazar Slytherin was apparently his ancestor. The memoir made it painfully clear only a blood relative could gain access to his sanctuary. Parseltongue was a blood gift passed down through family lines. The trait was not always active in every family member otherwise his parents would have had it. Following the path of a man that proclaimed himself as power-crazy did not sound overly prudent. Yet what else was he to do? He had just been put into a death trap of a tournament meant for the best and brightest of each school. Harry was not the best and brightest in Hogwarts. He only had three years of magical education versus the six years of tutelage the other Champions had. He was two years away from taking his OWLs and they were in a year of specialized study beyond the OWLs. More than likely all three were raised magical and came into their formal magical education far ahead of where Harry had at the age of eleven.

Harry was trapped by circumstances out of his control again and there was nobody in his corner. There was a Dark Lord after him and his dreams made it clear he was plotting something again. In fact, it was probably his plot to get Harry killed in the tournament. Hopelessness, fear, and an attitude of indifference overtook him. Nobody was going to come and pull him out or save him. His family despised him, his father's best friends were too caught up with themselves to consider putting Harry as their first concern. Dumbledore seemed to enjoy playing games with his life while simultaneously withholding information from him. The professors never listened, helped, or even gave a damn about him. His friends did not care for him like he thought they did. The only one who might help him was a House Elf. Dobby was many things but helpful in keeping him alive through the tournament Harry didn't think was one of them.

Deep in thought, he sat behind the desk thinking. His head in his hands. His hands supported by his elbows and his elbows by the desk under them as he leaned forward. Ruffling and pulling on his hair as he considered what to do. Resolve boiled deep within Harry. He was not going to let this tournament dictate his life. He was not going to let poor friends and adults ruin his life. He was going to do it because why not. At least if his life was ruined, this time it would be his own choice.

If Salazar Slytherin was so bad, why did they let his name stand as a founder? Once he left they could have removed him or even done it a generation or two later. Harry knew he was being naive and possibly making a horrible decision. He just didn't care. At this point, he felt like he was mentally shrugging his shoulders and saying 'what do I really have to lose trying it?'. He was being trained by a founder of the school who apparently was his ancestor. Everything he had learned with magic had made him rather impressed. Why not just do it. The book also had not revealed any new information yet, so it was possible that doing the ritual was the only way to continue.

It made no logical sense that Salazar's plan was to breed Dark Wizards. There was no evidence in books like their History of Magic texts or in Hogwarts a History that Slytherin was a Dark Lord. From his own book, it appeared that he cared deeply for the children of the school. If he had wanted to be a Dark Lord and kill muggle-borns or take over the wizarding world, why would he have kept his basilisk a secret and hidden away? It would be far more rational to have used the giant snake bred for destruction to make his enemies succumb to his might.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry groaned and tried to open his eyes to look around but his eyelids were caked onto his face for some reason. His hands reflexively reached to his eyes and rubbed. His fingers found resistance though they did not encounter sleep in his eyes. The substance was harder, grimier and crusty. He managed to rub his eyes open and sat up. His legs were laid out straight in front of him with his feet beyond shoulder width and he was now sitting with his buttocks on the ground and his upper body upright. He looked at his hands and saw they had red on them. Red? That didn't make sense. Oh, it did, now that he remembered why he was laying on the stone surface in the first place.

He'd done his first ritual. He closed his eyes again and just focused on breathing and himself. He was seeing if he'd become a Dark Lord. If he had been tricked by an ancient book that was far too sentient for his liking. This section had a mind of its own. It was Saturday, November seventh and he had completed his first-ever ritual. He did not feel, and couldn't see either, any difference, from what he could tell, at all. The book indicated it was an incremental change, not a substantial one. Each successive ritual would increase the minor effects as they accumulated and built off each other. The book suggested he would not notice the change at all. There would be a noticeable change between one and seven though. He would not become a powerhouse by completing the ritual sets. It explained he was getting a stronger frame to build off on. In the end, he could achieve more because of them, not that they would make him more.

The entire first set was focused on his mind. Strengthening his ability to learn, understand, think, plan, retain, sort, and process better. Maybe it was like making changes to a race car. He just upgraded the breaks when the old ones were performing to the maximum needs of the car already. He would not need the new breaks until the rest of the upgrades were done. At this point, the upgraded brakes served no function but as the other parts came into place, they would. Either that or he was failing to notice the change and Salazar was leading him down a nefarious path...

Before he could exit the room to shower, Hedwig flew in and barked at him. He took the letter from her and walked back across the hall to the study to open the letter.

_Heir Potter,_

_Gringotts has been expecting a meeting with yourself since your thirteenth birthday. It was your responsibility to come in then and to take up your position, formally, as the Heir of House Potter. Your legal status has changed this past week and an in-person meeting is required to discuss further details. Make your way to Gringotts in London at your earliest opportunity._

_A list of services provided by Gringotts is attached._

_Barfang_

_Gringotts London_

The list of services was less than he was expecting to see. Banking, investment, currency exchange, warding, curse breaking, and government forms. The first few services were things he was already aware of. Ron's brother worked for Gringotts at a curse breaker and he had heard of families paying for Goblin wards to be put up. It was the last one that caught his eye. Why did they specialize in government forms? Banking, investments, and currency exchange were just natural extensions for a banking institution. At least it was a fair bet to assume that In the muggle world.

The letter was rather direct and abrupt. Get to Gringotts and try and sort out what was going on. There was something he had missed at age 13 and that was unsettling to him. Someone should have told him if there was an important event for him at 13 that related to the Potter family. He stayed in Diagon Alley for quite some time and had gone to the bank to get some gold. They had not told him about anything other than taking him to the requested vault.

Harry had finished the ritual and after a shower, a quick trip to Gringotts would be a good idea. Dobby had delivered the letter so it might be interesting to see how the mood was in Hogwarts after taking in the news. He could skip out of the chamber and sneak into the Great Hall at lunchtime before heading out of the grounds. With that decided, he went out to put it into action.

x-x-x-x-x-x

It was a fairly simple plan and it worked well. Showered and dressed in clean clothes, thanks to Dobby, Harry flew his broom up the pipe and discovered something he hadn't expected. When he reached the top the pipe stayed closed and he could see what was going on in the bathroom as if the pipe's exit was glass. He could see there was someone in the bathroom and it was like the Chamber of Secrets knew it could expose its secret and worked to protect it.

After a while, from what he could see, the bathroom cleared out. It was quite the nice surprise as he could dismount his broom, shrink it down then cloak himself and check the map to ensure it was a good time to exit. With the map showing nobody nearby and most occupants of the castle heading to, or were already in, the Great Hall, he entered into the castle proper.

Quickly he snuck through the corridors undetected and moved behind some of the students heading into lunch to get behind Ron to hear what he was talking about. When he moved towards the Gryffindor table he had immediately noticed Ron and Hermione were not sitting together. Ron was seated where Dean and Seamus normally sat and he was amicably talking with them. Harry moved closer to hear.

"You put that much on him? You're barmy mate!" Dean laughed.

"Potter's always had some crazy luck! No way he dies as quickly as Draco is saying. Two minutes is a long time! Twice as long as that slimy snake is betting!" Ron defended himself from his friend's teasing.

"I've got him at seven minutes but being rescued instead of dying. Smaller and safer odds." Seamus chimed in while the two were bickering across from him.

"Seven minutes against a bloody dragon?! You're the barmy one! Charlie finished Hogwarts then spent years training to even handle the beasts!" Ron disagreed vehemently.

"Shush!" Dean said clamping a hand over Ron's mouth. "Thought you said it was to be kept quiet!" He admonished with a fierce whisper.

Harry backed up slowly with his mind racing. Dragons! The first task had something to do with dragons! Fire breathing, crush you into a pulp with a single appendage, dragons! He'd been so caught up in his own situation that he had forgotten the fact he had to face a deadly tournament this month. He felt something hard and unmoving behind him. He'd backed up right into the wall.

Taking deep breaths he began to calm himself. Overreacting will just complicate things. He had to get out of the Hall quickly. Simmering beneath the worry and panic of having to face an XXXXX beast, was further anger and betrayal. His former best friend knew about the dragons and was laughing about how quickly he would die. Like Harry's life was worth nothing to him.

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins. A torrent of pent up emotions yearned to make themselves known in magical release. Harry tore out of the hall towards the grounds as quickly as he could without giving himself away under the cloak. He was moving too quickly to be perfectly invisible, he knew, but he had to get outside. The cool air would help quench his anger and anxiety.

Too quickly he moved to get to the grounds. He looked back over his shoulder to see if anyone had seen him or followed him. As he went out through the main doors, the inside of his left knee collided with something moving perpendicular to him. His knee gave out as he put his weight on it and he grunted in pain as he fell to the ground. He felt the inside of his leg flare with pain. Whomever he ran into, the bony front of their knee drove into the inside of his knee and it was hurting badly.

Harry groaned noticing that he was on the steps still and only the upper half of his body was under the cloak now. This was not what he needed! He swore at himself for being so careless and moving far too quickly. He was just so upset though! "Buggering hell," he said in frustration as he grasped his knee with his hands and brought it towards his chest for a quick inspection. It was just soreness and would be bruising soon. Nothing a bruise paste couldn't handle later. He just had to get up and get out of here, preferably before he was discovered.

Harry quickly got back up and had the cloak covering him. The person he ran into was wearing a Beauxbatons outfit and from what he could see she was standing on one leg holding her knee as well. The impact had hurt her knee as well. She turned her head to see about the person she had run into when she heard him say something.

Putting her sore leg back on the ground she drew her wand. "Whoever you are, reveal yourself," she commanded in accented English. She seemed off-kilter and it seemed obvious why. She'd just run into an invisible person. That would throw anyone for a loop.

Harry began limping away as quickly as his knee would take him while ensuring his cloak didn't reveal him any more than his clumsiness already had. He crept down the steps and began moving towards the open lawns. He'd kept his eyes trained on the witch and noticed it was Fleur Delacour herself, the Beauxbatons Champion. She still had her wand drawn and cast '_Homenum Revelio'_ trying to detect him. She frowned as it did not light him up or indicate he was even there.

Harry kept backing away until he was on the lawn and he made for the whomping willow. He had thought about using the passage to Honeydukes cellar but that passage was more well used. If anyone was watching the passages to see if he was coming or going from the castle, that one would be the first one they would check. Each step on his sore leg brought about a resurgence of the dull pain in his knee. Each step became slightly less painful as he walked off the effects of the impact. He should have apologized or said something. It was rather rude and if she reported the incident, Dumbledore or his former friends would be able to piece together his presence with ease.

It was not something he could do anything about so he focused on his destination. It was not far to the Whomping Willow and he levitated a fallen branch to push into the knob, allowing his passage out. Once inside he was able to take off his cloak and walk normally.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Anticlimactic was the feeling Harry had as he was ushered into a private office of his apparent family account manager Bloodfang. A short walk in a tunnel, a trip through floo to Diagon Alley, and then presenting the letter he received from Gringotts led him to this room.

A small office with an old goblin sitting behind the desk. The goblin did not get up for his entrance or even offer a greeting. The distinct impression Harry had was that he was annoying the goblin in front of him. Harry took a step into the office as the door behind him closed. The goblin stopped scratching on his quill after twelve seconds and put it down.

"Be seated, Harry Potter," he said looking up in a rather bored tone.

Harry moved forward and sat in the closest chair to the door. It was padded with leather over the wooden seat and it still found a way to be as unyielding as if it was just sitting on uncomfortable wood. He didn't let the discomfort bother him.

"I am Bloodfang, the account manager for the House of Potter. I received your inquiry for assets you are entitled to, held by Gringotts and that is a rather interesting conundrum." The goblin paused his speech for a moment and looked rather pleased as he saw how interested Harry was in what he was saying.

"You are a Triwizard Champion in a tournament that has specifically stated you must be an adult to compete in. Therefore, as a competitor, you must currently be a legal adult in the wizarding world." That **was **rather interesting, Harry thought. It would alleviate his issues with trying to be his own man while others had legal authority over him. He started to think about the implications of being a legal adult when Bloodfang continued.

"Your status is tied to the competition and the tournament will end prior to your seventeenth birthday. Your new status can then be revoked or contested because you are not being emancipated as a minor through any legal means, just magical emancipation."

Harry's happy countenance ended with that statement and he abruptly asked the two questions that jumped to the front of his brain. "What does that mean for me now, and is there a way I can make it permanent?" His voice betrayed his desperation.

"If you'd kindly let me finish explaining I will cover your questions" the goblin growled at him, clearly perturbed for being interrupted. "This means your current status as an adult can be revoked by the Ministry or challenged by various persons in the wizarding world. From our understanding, if you are able to achieve the requirements to be an emancipated minor through the normal legal ways, they cannot overturn it. The requirements would have to be completed while your magical emancipation is still in place and the correct legal forms filled out."

Bloodfang had paused to let that knowledge sink into the young human's brain. The look on the goblin's face was daring him to interrupt him again. Harry had no intention of doing that to the already hacked off goblin.

"Completing your OWLs in wanded magic is the basic requirement you have to fulfil. Your status as the only son or daughter of House Potter has taken care of all the other requirements." Bloodfang folded his hands onto the desk in front of him and Harry took that to mean he had completed his explanation.

"Just so I am sure of my understanding, Bloodfang, can you confirm which subjects are considered the wanded OWLs?"

That was apparently the wrong question to ask as irritation flashed through the eyes of the green-skinned goblin. "The ones that require the use of your wand: Charms, Defense against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration." Harry nodded and felt embarrassed and chastised by the elder goblin.

"That leads to your interesting status. You are an adult and should be entitled to become Head of House Potter. Your status may not be permanent and I expect the Ministry or Wizengamot to ensure it remains temporary if they are able. Allowing a precedent of a fourteen-year-old Head of House for any reason will not be something they will wish to allow."

Harry wanted to ask why and opened his mouth but a single look from Bloodfang silenced him.

"As Head of House Potter you are able to sit on the legislature of the Wizengamot and no member will wish to grant a schoolboy equal status and power to the most prominent members of wizarding society. The Ministry will challenge it for fiscal reasons. House Potter is in a tenuous state. The will of the last Head of House Potter has been sealed by order of the Wizengamot. Legally, it is an inactive House as the arrangements for how it will be controlled have not been executed. This results in its inactive status rendering the Ministry to reap all fiscal benefits from the inactive vaults. When a House dies out without any arrangements left for its assets, the Ministry of Magic gains total control of their assets. House Potter is not extinct so they cannot claim your vaults. They can claim any profits that should have been going into them. I suspect a deal allowing the will to be repressed by the Ministry was cut and their benefit was entitlement to your family's profits."

The ministry was taking the money that should rightfully be his family's? They made a deal with the Wizengamot to seal his parents will? "They sealed my parents will so they could steal my family's money?" He asked in outrage. Harry couldn't help himself he stood up as the rage-filled words left his mouth.

"Sit down Mister Potter." The goblin barked at him equally as loud. The strength of the tone and bite of the words allowed him to comply and fend off his anger.

"Your father, James Potter, did not execute the will of his father Charlus Potter. Your parents' will could not be executed until the Head of House Potter allowed for the will of the officially recognized Head of House to be executed. James Potter did not take up his birthright after his father's death and he was not entitled to anything other than the use of the family assets as the primary heir."

Bloodfang's explanation further deflated the ballooned rage he had burning within him. His father had not taken up his duties to lead his family. It was this mistake that led to his family losing wealth. Why?

"James Potter decided not to take up the position because it was a time of war. The MInistry was in a state of war and legislation was passed that any gold received from inactive Head of Houses would be used to fund the war. James Potter was one of many that decided to protect his family by helping to fund the DMLE. He could not sign contracts or make decisions on behalf of House Potter. If family member or friend was captured your family assets were safe from being lost as he could not take up his position if he was under duress."

The decision still seemed suspicious to Harry. There must have been better ways to fund the DMLE and protect the family assets. There was no way that many prominent families took the same action. It was something else he should look into. Sadly, that list was growing longer with little to no progress on striking anything off of it. He recognized as a fourteen-year-old, he had no business being involved in these kinds of circumstances.

"You cannot take up your position as Head of House Potter until you are legally an adult. You are only magically recognized as an adult. However, you can take up your position as Heir; the Heir is allowed access to financial records and the family vaults."

Harry nodded and collected his thoughts. He'd been thinking of his plan of action. First was staying alive in the tournament. Secondly, the new priority was complete three OWLs before the tournament ended and thirdly to get control of his family assets.

"Bloodfang, my understanding is that House Potter is being taken advantage of and I need to complete the wanded OWLs as quickly as possible. Is there any way of improving the position of my House as the Heir?"

Bloodfang sat back in thought in his chair. Thus far in the meeting, he had been seated forward leaning towards or across his side of the desk. He now sat back deep in his chair with his index finger rubbing the left side of his jawline and his thumb the right side. He looked deep in thought. It was rather difficult to read what emotions he might have going through him for Harry. There weren't any typical human emotional cues to pick out.

"As the Heir, you cannot direct investments, you cannot conduct legal affairs nor even retain a solicitor, and as the Heir, you cannot sign any contracts on behalf of your House. Those are the three main functions aside from the Wizengamot. Your understanding is correct and if you look at the Wizarding Directory you should be able to find capable tutors."

Harry blinked. Wizarding Directory? What was that, he wondered astounded at the notion that the was a Wizarding Directory. He knew the muggle world had phone books with a directory of residential and commercial phone numbers and yet he never considered the concept could have occurred within the wizarding world. That led to the second question of how in Merlin's name did he not know about it?

Bloodfang opened the top drawer and withdrew some parchment and placed them on the desk in front of Harry. On top of it was a ring. A large green gem in the centre with a silver-coloured P at the middle. Harry picked it up and examined it closely. It felt magical in his hands.

"That is the Heir's ring for House Potter. A peridot gem with a mithril P on it. Peridot gems are said to have magical powers and healing properties to protect against nightmares. It is also said to instil power and influence through the wearing of the gemstone. It has been in your family for generations and magical peridot gems are rarely used for Heir or Head of House rings. Your House is the only active one to do so. To Gringotts' knowledge, it should help protect or warn you against external influences and might foster confidence and charisma. Upon the death of the Heir, the ring returns to your vault. That is how I have it and I took it out in preparation for this meeting."

Harry reverently placed the ring onto his finger as he listened to his family account manager talk and explain the properties of the ring. He gently slid it on and couldn't help but let his other hand idly caress it as the goblin spoke.

"That leaves me with financial matters. Your family should be rather wealthy but close to a decade and a half of having your incomes go to the Ministry has not helped. Compounding that was the sale of most of House Potter's assets into gold. The only investment that was retained was political in nature."

Bloodfang gestured to the paperwork in front of Harry and he looked at it as Bloodfang turned the page.

"As you can see you own thirty per cent of the Daily Prophet. The Potters are the single largest shareholder but you cannot direct or act on it. This, also, would be yet another reason the ministry will not allow you to easily retain an adult status. Note the paper is barely solvent."

That made sense, to Harry, if they were able to benefit from him not having access to control what the press does or does not say about him. He was aware of the nasty reports done on him after the champion selection.

"James Potter made a mistake turning your assets into gold because of inflation." Seeing the blank look on Harry's face he elaborated. "In short, inflation is the change in the purchasing power of money. What one galleon could buy in 1979 now takes almost three galleons to purchase. To put it very simply things cost more now than they did back in 1979. Your account has not been receiving any interest and the purchasing power diminishes every year even though the contents stays the same."

That was rather unfortunate, Harry thought again. Was the purpose of it to try and help fund the war effort? Harry understood that if his wife and family were in danger using all of your resources to try and protect them would be prudent. Harry knew that he would trade all of his gold to have his parents alive. Financially James Potter had made mistakes but morally his actions were not something Harry could fault. Only if he was manipulated into it would there be fault. Harry had a suspicion that Dumbledore's war effort was partially funded by his family. Though he had to admit he might've taken the same actions in his father's place.

Bloodfang continued on, ignorant of Harry's inner conflict. "As the Heir, you can authorize purchases with your ring and you can take out 100 galleons a day. The limit means little for investing as you would have to come and personally withdraw 100 galleons each day and then instruct me to invest it. The best way to help your House recover is to complete your 3 OWLs. Was there anything else you needed, Heir Potter?" The tone of the final question made it clear he had covered everything that was needed from his perspective. Harry knew the aged goblin was not one to have his time wasted. Everything had been direct and to the point. He had given all the pertinent information every time he spoke about anything, being as efficient and effective as possible.

"Two things come to mind. Where can I get a Wizarding Directory and why did Gringotts not inform me of this when I was thirteen? I came into the bank more than once..." Harry questioned as politely as possible, though his voice did trail off as he saw the change in mood from the goblin. He didn't want to upset the goblin that looked after his family account.

The account manager did not respond right away. He just stared at the boy for a few seconds before opening a drawer on the desk and reached his whole arm into the drawer, from what Harry could tell. It was hidden below desk height but it looked like he was up to his shoulder in the drawer. Harry waited until he withdrew something. It was a thin book, though it was full muggle sized paper in its dimension and bound in leather. Harry couldn't tell accurately but it seemed to have fifty pages or less. Perhaps thirty he surmised.

"Here is the Wizarding Directory." He said it rather gruffly. "Mister Potter, Gringotts is the premier bank in all the magical world and that is all we are. We do not inform any heirs of their rights when they are thirteen. We are only meeting today because you asked for an accounting of your full accounts. It was only your odd status in the magical world that led to this meeting. Had you not been magically emancipated, temporarily, you would have received a short letter with the information requested. We are a bank, nothing more nothing less."

With his short rant over and his peace said, he gestured for Harry to leave. Harry distinctly felt his very presence had annoyed his manager. He wondered if it was because the goblin had no way of actually making money with the meeting. He was not authorized to allow his vaults to be invested. He had thought it was interesting that he'd retrieved the Heir ring that now adorned his finger. It was somewhat disturbing that he was able to waltz into his vault and withdraw such an important item. Perhaps something to think on. Again, that growing list.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

After his time at Gringotts and a shopping montage for books, clothes, and anything else he could find that caught his fancy, Harry had returned to the Chamber without incident. Dobby was able to continue providing him with dinner and afterwards, he continued working through his first three years of textbooks on Charms, Transfiguration and DADA. He was reworking on the difficult spells he had not mastered the first time. His new understanding of the magical theory behind the spells allowed him to improve his previous spellcasting markedly.

This morning he was back to the memoir book and reading further about his next ritual. It was another mind ritual and was to be performed on the third day of the week. What caught his attention the most was what was below it.

_Intent is incredibly important with Ritualistic magic. However, the academic study of intent and its impact on the results of a ritual is profoundly limited. There is virtually no ability to research it, just from the scarcity of knowledge being shared about rituals, let alone the basis for having a way to actually capture the true intent of the person undertaking the ritual. Men can be deceitful even to themselves. What they espouse of themselves and what they truly are, do not always match. Some will fail to understand their own real intent. Insecurity could also be the true reason when they themselves truly believe it is for another purpose. Speculation based on a theoretical understanding is the most one could really expect or hope for on the subject._

_I digress, the intent is important, that is well known. It is the result that is in question- _ _ **that ** _ _is what is speculated on. When undergoing a ritual to improve one's mind, the intent on why it was done matters. Is the person doing it simply because they wish to improve themselves in a general sense? Are they trying to do it for conceited reasons of lording their ability over those lesser than them? Magic is intelligent and works towards balance. A wizard strictly trying to gain power for the sake of domination and dominance over others with a malicious intent will find that magic exacts a price._

_In the last scenario, I can only try and guess as to the price. Power without the ability to use it to its full might may be where the malicious mage could see deteriorating ability. Perhaps their ability to think rationally could be affected. Loss of bodily processes, like the over or underproduction of hormones could occur. Magic could make a myriad of punishing effects. When you, my heir, undergo a ritual, focus on _ _ **why ** _ _you are doing it. Find reasons that are just and morally sound and keep those at the forefront of your mind. Magic is sentient. Those users who have nothing but pure intentions may receive wonderful gifts from unicorns and those who are malicious to them live cursed lives for their arrogance. Never forget, magic _ _ **is ** _ _sentient._

Harry grumbled how that would have been nice to know before he did his first ritual and essentially locked himself into doing forty-nine in total. Salazar was a bloody prick for not telling him before he locked himself into his path.

A flash on the bookshelf across from him caught his eye. Harry thought he'd seen a quick glow around a book and plucked it from the bookshelf. There was a title on the book now. _A Novice's Guide to Charms by Salazar Slytherin_. Harry opened the first page and saw the _Lumos_ charm. The instructions on how to cast it were there, as well as modifications to the base charm and exercises to run in order to perfect his control and ability with the charm. Below that there were practical uses for the charm including a suggestion of uses in combat.

Harry didn't even go and sit back down, he just started reading and working on casting the spell. He'd recently gone over it but now he was being challenged to change the colour, shape, brightness and even have it done silently without wand movements. The book waited for him to master everything before the second page with a new charm showed up.

Harry went to the magical practice room across the hall and began to work through the book as best as he could. He had practised magic non-stop until Dobby brought him food. Even as he ate, he continued reading and practising the best he could while eating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone hoping for a Rocky Balboa training montage is going to be disappointed. I've read enough shopping trips and hopefully I'll never write one. I've simply read too many to contribute to those types of fics.
> 
> A quick note on the tagged characters for those wondering. The first task will see Fleur again, the OC will come next and Daphne will not be around for a while. Her character doesn't really factor in until the new year.
> 
> Beta'd 10/4/19 by Nauze.


	3. Dragons

The world around Harry was changing rapidly with a manhunt being organized for his safety. His magical guardian, or former magical guardian, Albus Dumbledore was leading the search. The DMLE had been notified and it was reported on heavily by the Daily Prophet with stories lambasting him for his attention-seeking behaviour as the fourth champion. They featured interviews with students that were known to despise Harry Potter, particularly Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, which added fuel to the already inflamed situation.

After the second full day of Harry's disappearance from the castle, Dumbledore had initiated a search for him. By the fourth day, he had contacted Amelia Bones to discuss the situation with her directly. He had not wanted to, but McGonagall forced his hand, saying she would if he did not. She was, after all, the one to receive the letter. Sprout had also pointed out in the short staff meeting, where the sole agenda item was about Harry Potter, that Susan more than likely would have already informed her aunt. The major source of the castle's gossip was that the youngest champion had gone missing. The staff knew that this information would have already left the castle.

Press coverage on his vanishing began when it was leaked, from a DMLE source, that Harry Potter was considered a missing person. Rita Skeeter, the gossip columnist, lost her exclusivity on writing on the Triwizard Tournament for the Daily Prophet. The coverage began speculating and requests for information from the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts and the Tournament's organizing Committee, began in earnest. Coverage of the tournament took a large uptick as well. The three individual events made for rather sparse coverage and extremely limited access to the actual competitors made coverage rather dull. Plans to cover the event grew from a single reporter being assigned to cover it, to many journalists actively seeking out stories that could be linked to it.

With the compelling story of a fourth champion that subsequently snuck out of Hogwarts, with its legendary security, there was an ongoing story to cover, which was surprising, considering that most editors of the major European wizarding press firms thought it would only have been three major stories with a possible follow up with the local champion after its conclusion. Perhaps a couple of other minor pieces but a three task tournament over nine months was rather minimal. The Committee's decision to keep the tournament a secret until its official announcement on September first killed any opportunity to build awareness and hype with their readers.

Interviews of eligible-to-enter students should've been done as well as months of coverage investigative reporting and special interest stories which might've illustrated a better picture of the competition. Instead, access to the champions was limited to just the Weighing of the Wands Ceremony and all details were kept as secret as possible. The only press agency given access was the Daily Prophet and not even they were running extensive coverage. Instead of creating political upheaval for a small set of stories for an event most people wouldn't even be expecting to occur, the editors decided to not kick up a storm to increase the news potential for the tournament.

That all changed when the most famous underage wizard in the world was named the fourth champion. The Boy-Who-Lived had kept a remarkably low profile since that fateful night and the first article of his emergence as a champion hadn't caught the attention of the wizarding world, direct results of the lack of coverage and no announcement ahead of time. Rita Skeeter was also a glorified gossip columnist that few took seriously to actually believe this was actual news. It was the breaking story that the underage champion, who Skeeter reported was an attention-seeking glory hound, had vanished which brought the scrutiny of the general public. The press had a recognizable celebrity in Harry Potter as the main focus, locked into a deadly tournament that had ties to most of continental Europe in some way, with both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang competing. Having Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump and Headmaster of the school presiding the event, it was just too juicy of a story to pass on. With such a broad audience and two of the best-known wizards at the epicentre, a media storm was born overnight.

Albus Dumbledore may be the Headmaster of Hogwarts but he is also the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and it is in this capacity that he was compelled to be accessible to the press of the European nations. Furthermore, the DMLE in Britain had opened an investigation and the Department Head, Amelia Bones, would have to comment on the case as it developed. Instead of the scant few stories on the Tournament announcement, Champion Selection, Weighing of Wands, First Task, Yule Ball, Second Task, Final Task, and a follow up with the individual champion comprising the expected seven stories over ten months, there were now weekly or daily stories to be followed.

The most well known underage wizard being forced into a tournament that he was three years too young to compete in and his subsequent disappearance, with Albus Dumbledore as a possible culpable party, was just too great a scoop to keep under wraps. Dumbledore was perhaps the foremost wizard in the world, being a well-published academic across multiple fields, the defeater of Grindelwald, the counterpart of Lord Voldemort, the political head of the ICW, and the longtime Headmaster of a world-renowned school, even he did not have the clout to stop the press. The juicy story became an overnight sensation in Britain and throughout nations that now covered the Triwizard Tournament.

A shotgun approach on coverage began: Harry Potter's disappearance, speculation into the befuddlement of the goblet, crackpot theories, expert analysis. An insatiable appetite for the Triwizard Tournament was born. November seventh was the day Harry Potter had ventured out to Gringotts, the seventh day of the week and the date of his first-ever ritual. It was the second day of his disappearance and a day prior to the DMLE marking him as a missing person. The press had wind of his status as a missing person within twenty-four hours and on the morning of November ninth, the story broke.

The weighing of the wands was scheduled for November thirteenth and press coverage of the event was forced to be changed. Every major publication had run multiple stories, the Daily Prophet even having daily articles related to Harry Potter or the Tournament since his disappearance was announced. No longer could the organizers allow only a single reporter. The Ministry of Magic was under intense scrutiny for losing the Boy-Who-Lived. Dumbledore himself felt the pressure and they had to cave to the demands, lest further conspiracy stories are born. The short ceremony now became a public press event. A podium for each champion to answer questions as well as a broader audience for the wand analysis.

On the fourteenth, just ten days before the first task, papers had multiple reports on the Weighing of the Wands. Foremost, in the coverage, was the absence of the youngest champion. Dumbledore had to divulge Harry's note that he had withdrawn from Hogwarts at this time. Further, the Committee had failed to inform him of the event as they had only given him information on the date of the first task before he left Hogwarts. Scathing coverage of those revelations followed. The press decried the Committee's rampant failures to keep the poor missing boy out of the deadly affair and then they didn't even disclose all the relevant information properly to him. Leading up to the first task, everyone wondered if Harry Potter was even going to show up to the task. Had he run away? Was he kidnapped? Why had no information or possible leads come forward yet? There were numerous angles for the press to follow up on.

On November sixteenth it was revealed by Amelia Bones that Harry Potter had been sighted, just once, since his disappearance from Hogwarts. He had been in Diagon Alley, alone, on November seventh. Few details were divulged by the Director of the DMLE, however, investigative journalism quickly followed up on which shopkeepers had seen him and what they recalled he'd purchased.

Questions were raised about his purchase of a new wardrobe. Why would he need a new set of clothes when he had already shopped and picked up his school robes in the summer? The shopkeepers knew Harry somewhat well as he had spent weeks in the Alley the previous summer. Eager to have their time in the spotlight, the shop keepers had no qualms about reliving all their experiences with the Boy-Who-Lived.

This led to further articles on why such a well-known person was staying in an establishment that was respectable enough but couldn't shake the fact it was still just a dingy pub. The private life of Harry Potter was delved into both by investigators and the press. Albus Dumbledore had kept his extracurricular school activities relating to Sirius Black and Voldemort a secret. The best sources for information on him, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were protected from the press by Hogwarts. Dumbledore should be thankful for that merciful fact or his positions of power in the wizarding world could very well crumble away from him.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The fourteen-year-old boy staying in the personal quarters of Salazar Slytherin, hidden deep in the bowels of the school, knew none of this. A new way of life had taken hold of Harry Potter. Solitude in Slytherin's sanctum, which was a breath of fresh air to him. No expectations, no bullying, no staring, and just whatever he chose to do each day. Studying magic under the guidance of the freakishly sentient memoirs or personal books of Salazar Slytherin. This quickly became his new favourite thing to do. Reading the teachings of the man and practising magic took up every single one of his days.

Following the guidelines for the rituals and practising magic were his daily tasks. As he learned and mastered the new material, more became available. Harry had learned the system that the chamber used. There was the main memoir that slowly let out more information. It followed the life, or stories about the life, of the man, teachings on a plethora of subjects, or guidance for his heirs. New books would get a soft glow of magic when they became available and the titles would show themselves. The glow also occurred when a title released new pages for Harry to study.

So far Harry had only had four topics. Charms, DADA, Transfiguration and Runes. Potions was only covered if and when a ritual called for one to be brewed. Harry had completed six rituals, all focused on the mind, and was reading up on the next ritual. Five rituals on the normal 3rd and 7th days of the week with an extra slotting in on the 13th day of the month. A logbook of the rituals had appeared in the library and glowed when a new ritual was added. Some were added a few days in advance, as preparing for them could require more than a day to do. Potions that had to sit after completion for a minimum specified period of time, parts that had to soak in blood for three days, and other tedious tasks that had to be followed.

Today he was reading up on the next ritual. It was called the Dragon Power ritual. The journal had marked it in the seventh column. There were six foci for ritual sets on different aspects of either his body or his magic, but the seventh column was marked simply as special. This was the first ritual in this category and Harry began to read through it. The ritual had good results with a single dragon but the variation he had been requested to do called for the use of three dragons. It theorized seven dragons would have a more powerful effect. Having seven dragons in close proximity to perform the ritual was, as far as Salazar knew, never tested. Wild dragons do not congregate in such large groups, so even the likelihood of finding three all together, in the wild, was a pipe dream.

Yet, the ritual was calling for Harry to use three dragons of different breeds. He had to mark them with runes drawn in his blood mixed with a complicated potion. On top of drawing runes on the dragons, he had to drink some of each of their blood as the final step before activating the ritual. A preliminary ritual would take place here in the chamber which would prepare his body and magic to accept the draconic influence. The second stage was linking the three dragons to him through the blood. His blood on them and their blood within him. The next step of the process was to return to the prepared ritual room and activate the second part.

The book was not perfectly clear on the exact effects it would have on him. Being considered a special ritual in the journal had him wondering about its effects. The obvious question for Harry though, was where the bloody hell would he find three dragons. His mind had made the connection that it was supposed to be done on November 24th. The day of the 1st Task and coincidentally the third day of the week. It was also his seventh ritual. Given the importance placed on seven sets of seven, Harry wondered if that made a difference as well.

He knew that he was a complete novice and was essentially walking down this path utterly blind. For all he knew, he was on the path to becoming a Dark Lord. It may have been where Voldemort had started his path to insanity. He knew for certain that Tom Riddle had found the Chamber and had commanded the basilisk found within. Was it possible that he had bungled a ritual? Salazar had written it over and over to not forget magic was sentient. How did that transfer to rituals? Intent was of paramount importance, so how did it affect rituals?

Thinking back to the unicorn example, Harry knew that powdered horn was used in healing potions and hairs were used in wands. He thought he'd heard the hairs could also be used in bandages, due to its strength, but he wasn't certain on that. He'd not really seen any bandages used in the wizarding world that would require strength. The types of injuries he had sustained may just have not required it. He had not heard of any further uses so he was left with a couple of underlying points of data. Unicorn's parts were used for healing, defence, and strength for the pure uses. Drinking a unicorn's blood that was forcibly taken would curse the person, or so he'd been told. The intent of the use made all the difference.

Applying that to rituals, if the ritual was used in a way that was consistent with stealing a unicorn's blood and harming them, then would the ritual curse the person? Harry pondered that for a moment before he found a minor flaw. When Quirrell drank the unicorn blood he did get his intended result. It kept him and Voldemort alive. They gained the result they wanted but they were punished for their abhorrent act by magic? They received a strength at the cost of being cursed. He had died shortly after, rather painfully, and there might've been side effects Harry was simply unaware of. It seemed unlikely that the aged Headmaster would give up any kind of gruesome details to an 11-year-old. Was his gruesome fate linked to the unicorn blood curse? Could it be that the curse was what burnt him when he sought to damage something else that was also pure, like an eleven-year-old child? Dumbledore had said it was a remnant of his mother's protection that hurt Voldemort. Was he honest and truthful or spinning a web of lies? Maybe he was just keeping ugly details from the mind of a boy who just went through a traumatic experience...

Perhaps the situation and its concepts could apply to Ritualistic Magic. Voldemort undergoing rituals for the purpose of hurting others, subjugating them, and ruling over all others. The sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle he had met in the Chamber was a cruel and twisted teen. Though, he was still human. His humanity may have been warped but there was no denying it was still there. The Voldemort he met in first year was deranged and the memory of him from the dementor-induced night of his parent's murder was no longer fully human-looking. There was no way Harry should have survived either encounter. Quirrel could have simply killed him with a single spell as soon as he had the stone. He could have blasted him with a single curse the second he appeared.

Voldemort knew he had it and instead of just ensuring his victory, he acted illogically and allowed Harry Potter to destroy his host. If Harry was the Dark Lord hiding under a turban, as soon as he knew the stone was retrieved, he would have killed the witness and made a quick escape. There was no reason to toy with Harry or act as he had. The boy who caused his vanquishing would have been dead and he would have been immortal with the potential for limitless wealth. Provided he escaped with the stone and the stone did all it was purported to do.

Even at sixteen, Tom Riddle was making odd choices. He had a wand and could cast spells. Instead of releasing the basilisk why would he not have just done the deed himself. Playing with his prey allowed Harry the opportunity to stop him and his pet snake. Would Riddle have seen it that way? Was it the magic of the rituals affecting him? Making him powerful, smart, all the while extolling a subtle price for his intentions? As a novice, he knew he would not reach a definitive answer. The constant reminder by Salazar's memoir just often made him think about it. Tom could have gone the same path as Salazar hinted of his hope for a true heir. Instead, he was like Salazar's first son. A young man that wanted power and foolishly went after it.

What did that say about Harry himself? He was willingly following the path of a man who made that mistakes first. Could he have truly learned enough to prevent it? The magic that made up the Chamber and that was training him, seemed far too precise to be done by a person who had lost their mental faculties. The point of argument still stood though. Could the one who had fallen to his quest for power be trusted to lead Harry in a better direction? The best source of information on Salazar Slytherin were his memoirs and how could he know they were honest reflections and not a cunning conniption to propagate future followers of his dark plans? There was a lingering sick feeling that he could be on the path to becoming the same sixteen-year-old boy he met in his first foray into the mythical sanctuary he now called home.

Harry knew that Riddle and he were somewhat alike. Dumbledore had admitted it. Both were orphans with a rough childhood. Isolated from their peers, Riddle a muggle raised in Slytherin and Harry a muggle raised and at odds with his housemates. Both were ostracized for events out of their control. They were both gifted magically with Harry having realized it when Lupin explained most teenagers did not have the ability to produce a corporeal Patronus charm let alone adults and even some aurors. Dumbledore had said it was their choices that made them different. From the evidence Harry had seen, Harry suspected Riddle took in the same teachings he was now undergoing. Would there be a crossroads that would separate the two? Was it all based on the intent behind the magic? Riddle's cruel, sadistic and ambitions of grandeur. Harry hoped his true intentions were nobler.

This time, he was not descending into the Chamber to save his best friend's little sister from a monster. Those were noble intentions. Though he could reason they were not fully noble because Harry had not wanted the school to close. If it did, he'd be stuck back with his relatives instead of just for the two months that the school wasn't in session. Harry had different ambitions now. He wanted to be able to protect himself and those he cared about from enemies. He wanted to be himself and not some moniker given to him for some fluke of magic or for something his parents had done to protect him. He wanted to be himself and control his destiny. He needed to get himself into a position that allowed him to be independent, free from Dumbledore and the Ministry having control over him.

Under Dumbledore's watch, he had almost died every single year! And now, this year, he was in a tournament meant for the best and brightest students who were completing their final year of education. Harry knew Cedric was one of the top students in the entire school. Every time a Hufflepuff was looked down upon for being in Helga's house, Cedric Diggory and Amelia Bones were the two ready-made examples of proving Hufflepuffs were not hard-working dunderheads. Cedric was pretty well mister everything. Seeker on the Hufflepuff team, son of a prominent ministry worker, and from an old family. He was supremely talented, hardworking, fair, honest, and popular. Harry, a student with half the magical education and muggle raised on top of that, was supposed to compete at his level. Dumbledore hadn't even tried to find a solution to his entry. He'd just accepted it like it was somewhat expected.

The Headmaster had shown surprise when the fourth name came out, Harry had seen that, and yet he'd done nothing to assist him. Harry had told him and Sirius about his dream about Voldemort and they'd done nothing. Year after year his life was in danger and they did nothing. Harry would consider the Ministry of Magic but it was common knowledge that the Minister's funding for his political interests had private funding from Lucius Malfoy. The man that had tried to kill him after his second year. The man that had given a cursed diary to an eleven-year-old girl and knew attacks were going on in the school his son was living at. The same minister who said that they must be seen to be doing something when they threw another innocent person into a prison that was tantamount to prolonged and ceaseless torture.

No, Harry's path to independence and protecting himself would have to be wrought from his own actions. It is why his intentions were not fully pure. Perhaps there wasn't much of a price for his ascendance towards greatness. He didn't want this to change him. He still valued friendship and his real goal was to have a family that loved him. A family he would sacrifice himself for like his parents had done for him if it was necessary. He was only 14 and didn't have any business or political goals. He barely even knew about anything in either topic in the magical world. There was no scheme for economic, political or magical power to enable him to control the wizarding world. Discerning his true intentions for undertaking ritualistic magic was downright troubling.

Troubled, this lead Harry back to his original problem. Locating three dragons. None of the other rituals had been difficult to find ingredients. In fact, Dobby had found some of them already prepared within the Chamber or in Hogwarts. Harry had gleefully known some must've come from the potions stores or from Snape's personal stores. Harry sat back in the chair and began to think of how Hogwarts and dragons could be related. The only thing he could come up with from his past was the incident in his first year. Could Hagrid have acquired three dragons? The ritual called for three adult dragons to be used. The proverbial light bulb went off in his head and he realized it must be for the first task. The painful conversation he'd done his best to forget when he overheard his former best friend in the Great Hall flooded his mind again.

Harry only had two days before the first task to check his theory, prepare for the ritual, and then come up with a strategy for whatever the task was. He'd gotten so wrapped up in his newfound freedom and the pursuit of magical knowledge he now had just two days in advance to prepare to be competing against dragons. A thought broke to the forefront of his mind that chilled all the others. How had the book that was recording and preparing him for rituals known about the first task and that they were going to be using dragons? Was it a haphazard coincidence of happenstance? That the seventh ritual would always be the Dragon Power ritual?

Harry didn't know how to react. It was already rather unsettling how sentient the chamber was. Harry had discretely tried to look for portraits. It was the best idea he had so far- that there were hidden portraits that watched and setup the entire curriculum for him. It was far too responsive. If Salazar had been able to set this up before he died, why wouldn't this school have had some kind of function like it somewhere else? History of magic could easily be taught this way. The most unsettling part, before the dragon coincidence, was the immediacy of how things occurred. How he'd finish reading a book and then a moment later another would light up for him to continue his studies. It was best not to think about that again. He only had two full days to prepare and so he grabbed the ritual book to see exactly what the Dragon Ritual was. He wanted understanding as to why it was marked in the seventh category.

_This dragon ritual is based upon the understanding that dragons are magical creatures. Many beasts have magical properties and yet they should not be considered magical creatures. The Dire Wolf is an example of a great beast that has been deemed to be magical. A Dire Wolf is simply a regular wolf that has gained magical properties. Magic has allowed the Dire Wolf to gain size, strength, intelligence and, dependent on which researchers one believes, various degrees of magical traits. At one end of the research pendulum is the understanding that they have a base resistance to magical attacks and that their ability to blend into their environment is a form of magical camouflage. On the other end is the understanding that their natural strength is augmented by magic, their camouflage abilities are enhanced by magic and their hide gains magical resistance. The distinction is magic enhances nature versus magic adding new magical traits. Regardless, the point of the matter is Dire Wolves are mundane wolves that have gained magical properties._

_Dragons are beasts that are not simple mundane creatures that have gained magical properties. A dragon cannot exist without magic. Stripping the magic from the dragon ends their life. They are a being of magic. Their robust scales, immense size, small wings, and internal flame cannot exist without magic. Dragons are one of the few species of beasts that are born of magic. Dragons, Phoenixes, Unicorns and Basilisks are the four well known magical creatures. Most of the beasts that are improperly named as magical creatures are the results of magical experimentation. Thestrals, Hippogryphs, Minotaurs, Chimeras, and Griffons, for example, all have their roots in wizards and witches experimenting with magic._

_The animagus transformation is one avenue of finding infallible proof while the uneducated will wrongfully interpret the results. It is a well-known fact there are no magical creatures for anyone's animagus form. The general explanation is that it is not possible, however, this is a falsehood. There are two aspects to the general understanding that are errantly combined. The first is magic does not recognize the experimental magical creatures as options. They are bastardizations of magic. Only one that has an equally bastardized form of magic could become one. Theoretically, a wolf animagus could similarly abuse their magic to what turned a regular wolf into a Dire Wolf. Theoretically possible but practically impossible. One cannot change a human soul as easily as one can change the soul of a mundane beast._

_There is another aspect that is misunderstood that is related to this topic that I will explain. The distinction between beasts with magical properties and magical creatures is important to the generally accepted fact that magical animagus forms are not possible. The human body is not infused with enough magic to allow it to become a true magical creature. True magical creatures are beings born of magic with every single part of their being deeply infused with magic. Their body parts are so instilled with magic that they are some of the most potent potions reagents available. Many possible reagents are simply unsuitable as their powerful latent magic creates volatile reactions with other ingredients that are incredibly difficult to devise a way to stabilize. There are no healing potions with Phoenix tears because they simply overpower any potion and act with their normal use as if they were not a part of the potion. They destabilize any potion they have been added to leading to the tears being used directly when available. Their potency is so strong the tears override any intent to change or modify their magical properties._

_Theoretically, it is possible for a wizard to become a magical animagus. My supposition is if one had a high enough level of magic infused into their body they could become a magical creature. There is the inherent understanding that their soul would have to be compatible with the magical animagus form. Even if one was able to transform into a magical creature I expect the true magical abilities would not be fully accessible. Infusing enough magic to become a magical creature is the first step and is only theoretical. Performing magical abilities would take high levels of magic. Perhaps if one was able to become a phoenix they would be able to fly as the majestic bird does and perhaps even gain tears that heal to some minor capacity. It is doubtful they would ever be able to gain the prized abilities of flame travel and being reborn from their own ashes. The base level of magic required for those abilities is far beyond just being able to take their shape. Given the size and levels of magic required, I would postulate it would not be possible to become a dragon or a basilisk. A unicorn would be at the very point of meeting between theoretically possible and most practical. It was thought that Merlin could turn into a phoenix but it was him simply taking the form of the bird and not having any of its magical abilities. A magical form of animagus but not a real magical creature._

_This leads to the effects of the Dragon ritual. The first stage of the ritual is preparing your body to allow the vast magical potential of a dragon to be taken into your body. Infusing your body with the dragon's magic can have a number of effects. True magical creatures have a few things in common. They are incredibly durable against physical, mental and magical attack. They are incredibly potent magically. For example, the venom of a basilisk is far beyond any other form of snake venom, including those that have gained magical properties for their venom. Beyond durability and potency is their magical abilities. Dragons can fly with wings that physically could not support their weight, they can breathe fire and are a mobile and impregnable fortress of destruction. Each magical creature has magical abilities and it is possible the wizard that undergoes the ritual to gain a magical ability. Though the level of infusion of magic would more than likely require seven dragons in the ritual based upon my experience of a single dragon. Do not expect to be able to breathe fire, fly or have armoured skin._

_From my own use, I noticed a few changes. Most noticeably were my changes were that found more in the improvement on the physical level. Strength, limited durability, improved senses, and reaction times all with varied rates of increase. On the magical side, there was perhaps a change in how sensitive I was to magic. I felt I could feel magic to a greater degree. It was not like lighting a candle in a dark storeroom. The change was more akin to adding an additional candle to a room that already has some lit. There is a change when looking for it but it was not a stark difference. As for my mind, I did notice a greater change there. Upon reflecting I became more confident and sure of myself. It must be what it feels like to be a dragon. To know you are the apex predator and there are none greater than you. I was already a powerful wizard, both fierce and feared. It could have been natural or perhaps it was the dragon magic. The exact changes one undergoes has too many factors to conclusively predict especially as intent plays a part._

_What is known about those that have used this ritual is that it is one of the few that I have placed in their own category. Most rituals cannot be noticed by themselves. Only within combinations will there be any kind of change that is noticeable to the wizard. The Dragon ritual has the potential to be impactful enough that it can bring about as much or greater change than a set of rituals. There is very little that is precise within ritualistic magic. The breed of dragon, its age, sex, and personality are just a few characteristics that mould the results. Let alone taking into consideration how they blend with the intent of the wizard, the aspects of the target, and even how many dragons are being used. When more than one dragon is used, how they are all mixed together matters as well. The only true guide can be found by understanding the areas where change can occur and your own intent for the ritual. Accurately predicting the results would take weeks of endless study._

_Infusing your body with magic is how one becomes more powerful in a literal sense. There are no stores of magic kept within a person. Wizards and witches have the ability to use and absorb magic. They are able to interact with it and creatively use it in various forms. There is no storage in a literal sense. There is no extra organ or space where magic is synthesized, processed, or even stored. Instead, each wizard is infused with magic. Those that are more powerful are able to saturate and channel more magic through their bodies. The purpose of the Dragon ritual is to gain aspects of their ability and to over saturate your body with magic. Dragons are beings made of magic and far surpass any level of saturation by a human. Power is a mixture of saturation and the ability to channel magic through the body. In short, how much body your magic can handle inhabiting it and how much can be channelled through it. The Dragon Ritual is meant to aid in both aspects. Magic is a truly wonderful thing. Taking in magic from a sentient creature you connect to is a powerful undertaking and be sure your intent is pure._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry could feel the adrenaline coursing through his body. This is the first crazy adventure he was voluntarily getting into because it was going to solely benefit him. No Hermione to rescue from the troll, no dragon to smuggle out for Hagrid, no legendary artefact to protect from a mad man, no gigantic snake to battle to save Ron's sister, no giant spiders to seek out for Hagrid, and no dementors to drive off to protect his and others souls.

This was the first ludicrous activity that he was going through with at Hogwarts that no sane person would expect a fourteen-year-old boy to be caught up in. Yet here was Harry Potter, ready to enact the plan he had come up with. He'd scouted the dragon's handlers under his invisibility cloak and found out a key detail. The ministry had wanted to ensure the dragons were well rested for the task to put on a good show. They were to be put to sleep the night before. The handlers had laced their dinners with sedatives strong enough to force the dragon to sleep through the night.

The handlers were all heading to bed early to be as prepared for the task the next day. They expected to have ornery dragons. Forcing them to sleep while they were watching their clutch of eggs was a terrible idea. No matter how many times they explained it the official refused to not accept any other course of action that was not their own. That led to the current state of affairs.

Every dragon handler in bed with alarms set to wake up two hours before the dragons were expected to wake up at 10 am. The task was to start at 11 am and they would be waking the dragons up at 10 am. They would all be irate and extra defensive of their clutches. They were not looking forward to their alarms going off. Every one of the twelve dragon preserve employees was bunkered down in their tents and sleeping or preparing to sleep.

Harry Potter was lurking outside the temporary dragon enclosure. He'd overheard their plans and was going to add his own to them. If he could pull this off it would be quite the heist. Fate seemed to be working for him this time, and not to screw him. He'd discovered that there had been a potion invented specifically for keeping dragons asleep. To brew it was a NEWT level or beyond NEWT level potion. He'd followed the exact instructions of the book and thought it had come out fine. He did not want to trust that the dragons he was painting his blood with were not going to suddenly come out of their nap time and fry him to a crisp.

Harry cast the basic detection charm for sensing if there are wards. He was grateful the tents were not warded. He hadn't learned anything yet about dismantling or any ways to overcome even basic wards. He'd been told outright destroying them would be an option. For a stealth mission such as this, it was not feasible.

Harry crept into the first of the two tents and saw it was much as he was expecting. A magically enlarged tent. He walked into the entrance that led down two steps into a sunken sitting area that was complete with couches, armchairs and a lit fireplace. He slowly made his way down two steps when he realized a mistake he had made. He'd forgotten to cast the charm to detect how many human souls were within the immediate area. The more power he put into the charm the greater the distance it would cover. When he first learned the charm, he remembered the French Champion had used it when he was under his cloak.

What did not make any sense was the incongruity between what the book stated and what he had experienced. Salazar's book was very clear. The charm would reveal even those found under invisibility cloaks. Wizards had no method to defeat the simple charm. It was an infallible, an inerrant and impossible to trick, charm. The result should have been blatantly obvious. Harry was the only person to have ever survived the Killing Curse. The curse was inerrant, infallible and if it made contact with you death was the only result.

That was until young Harry Potter had it cast on him. Now he was not revealed by a charm that detects human souls. What did that mean about his soul? Had the Killing Curse done something to his soul? There was that growing list… Harry had never even heard of soul magic before. There was no elective class for it at Hogwarts. Another mystery that was simply beyond him and had no bearing on his immediate future.

His left foot skipped the first step and he moved onto the top step on the far side of the shrunken living room. The kitchen was off to his left but he was unconcerned with it. The charm had told him there were six persons ahead of him. There were three doors and that meant two to a room. Harry slowly made his way down the hallway as quietly as he could. He'd never been so thankful for sneaking around the castle and at the Dursley's before that.

He snuck his way into the room and cast Sonimum silently. That had taken some practice to learn how to cast his first-ever silent spell. It was less work than he expected because he understood why it was more difficult. It was said to require more focus and wasn't done until the NEWT level classes. By removing the verbal and mental queues from spell casting the caster often failed to supply the intent and willpower required. It took some time to figure it out and become comfortable to go into this kind of undertaking.

Harry was not certain of how legal rituals of this nature were, but he was willing to wager his entire trust vault that this specific one would be deemed illegal. That did not bother him and neither did casting silent sleeping charms for dragons on the two dragon handlers. They were situated in a bunk bed with each man lying down on the mattress. Whether they were asleep or not didn't matter. Two very fast spells while he was still under his cloak and he was ready to go. He'd put enough power that he thought they shouldn't wake for a couple of hours. Beyond that, he had no way to really gauge. It wasn't like he'd ever run around casting silent sleeping charms on men that were already sleeping beforehand.

Harry continued onto the next two rooms and though his blood pressure would infer he was in an extremely dangerous event, it was rather anticlimactic. None of them were expecting a Triwizard Champion to break into the supposedly secret temporary dragon preserve and to incapacitate the handlers. It was all over in less than ten minutes of him entering camp. Now came for the part he was less sure of. He'd be exposed inside the pens as he began to make his way out of the final tent. This tent held the more senior staff members. There were four rooms instead of just three. Walking past the coffee table, he saw something that piqued his interest.

There were four life-like renditions of the dragons that were outside the cages. He saw they were miniatures of the actual dragons. Harry looked at them and quite liked the Hungarian Horntail miniature. He decided it would make a nice desk ornament in the chamber. He pocketed it, without guilt, and made his way out of the tent.

The air was frigid and fresh. It smelled of old tree growth and tickled his senses with the hint of the winter that was to come. The cold air surrounded him as he made his way into the first dragon pen. He'd researched the four dragons and decided to use the Hungarian Horntail, the Chinese Fireball and the Swedish Short-Snout. The most deadly dragon in existence, the scarlet-coloured reptile known as the lion dragon, and thirdly the gorgeous silver-blue dragon that was agile and the one that could throw out blue hot flames.

He'd thought them a good mix. A lion-like dragon, the most feared and combative dragon paired with an agile, blue hot flamed dragon that was reclusive by nature. The Common Welsh Green was more of a sheep eating docile dragon. Its calm demeanour and general lackadaisical nature did not appeal to him. It would be skipped as the ritual only required three.

He'd practised the runes he had to draw on the dragons in his own blood tirelessly. He could do them blindfolded without any issues. The blood he had simply siphoned out the previous afternoon as it would take around two quartz per dragon. It worried Harry that he would be losing so much blood until his brain kicked in and he realized he could simply use a blood replenishing potion. His muggle upbringing really hindered the thought processes that most wizards would have. In some ways, that was good, as it allowed him to think differently than magically raised children and there were times where it sorely hindered him. An exhausted Harry Potter made it back to the chamber by 2 am to engage the next part of the ritual.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

When Harry's body finally recovered from the ritual, it was eight hours later, just as the book had predicted. The worst discovery, upon waking, was the incredible pain he was in. His entire body had been infused with the foreign magic and it had incredibly painful results. When he activated the connection between them he felt like his body was bathed in fire. He knew there was no warning of it in the instructions for the ritual. Was it left out so that he wouldn't have second thoughts about performing it or because something went wrong? Either way, It hurt beyond anything Harry had ever experienced. He was used to pain and had a rather high tolerance for it. All of the previous experiences paled in comparison. It was like every cell in his body was on fire and it knocked him out. He could not stay conscious with that level of pain. Thankfully, he had planned ahead and Dobby helped him like usual.

As quickly as he could, he scarfed down the meal Dobby provided and completed his morning rituals. The pain relief potion that he'd taken prior to his meal had thankfully kicked in. Each minute, the after-effects of the ritual were lessening and if the rate of change continued he would be right as rain in no time. Harry made his way back towards the bedroom so he could look for a robe that would be ideal for today. Dobby had been delighted to be allowed to take on such an arduous task. It still amused Harry to see how excited he got by the prospect of work.

Harry stood in the walkthrough closet and asked for Dobby.

"Dobby, is there any kind of outfit fit for combating a dragon?" It was kind of a shot in the dark but maybe Dobby had found something. He'd already come through with a mokeskin pouch for discretely and safely storing items. He'd no longer go anywhere without this invisibility cloak that could, somehow, fully hide his presence. Storing even the map on him would be prudent too.

Harry had not explored all the clothes. Others might have. He cared rather little for clothing. Dobby put outfits out for him to wear everyday anytime he required it. Harry hadn't asked him to and he appreciated it.

Dobby hadn't responded verbally, he had just popped away without comment.

A few seconds later, he reappeared with a new set of clothes in hand. Harry thanked the little elf and looked at what had been procured for him. He was able to easily identify a set of black dragonhide boots with silver finishings. There was a dark green set of pants that were so dark they appeared black except under light. There was a light black undershirt to go over his bare skin with a set of robes that matched black and silver boots in parts and his pants in others.

Harry ran his hand along it and there were perceptible differences in the materials. Very fine and small scales that may have been from a dragon. There were smooth portions that felt like a cool brisk stream. Those portions he safely thought were acromantula silk and the final portion almost felt like an odd mixture between the two. It wasn't standard muggle leather, he knew that much. A snakeskin? Basilisk hide or just part of it? It was an outfit that came from this closet and was better than wearing his simple Hogwarts robes.

Harry slowly changed out of his clothes and put these on. He'd never considered clothes before and now he felt that was an error. His plain school robes and hand-me-downs did affect him. Unconsciously, he was embarrassed by his shabby attire. He did not care how expensive or if they were from a well-known designer. The error was that he'd never felt this good before. These were well made, tough, durable, fashionable and incredibly comfortable. Though he didn't notice, his chin was held just a little higher.

Harry checked himself again. He had his mokeskin pouch, which Dobby had provided, and it contained his wand, the map, his cloak, and his Firebolt. He realized he should consider putting in some basic potions as well. He squared his shoulder, brought his chin up and strode, with purpose, to go and face the first task. He'd looked the part, he felt the part and he would perform the part up to his expectations today. It had only been a couple of weeks but Harry felt different. He was preparing for what was to come and take the reigns of his life back under his control.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry was not expecting to see what he was experiencing now. There was far more to this tournament than he had expected. Harry made up his mind to head towards the stadium, under his cloak, and try to find out where he was supposed to show up. The throngs of people showed that there were far more than even the end of season quidditch games that were packed with parents, scouts and friends. There was a buzz in the air and apprehension festered through the atmosphere. Harry did his best to make his way towards what he overheard as being termed the Champion's Tent. It was not hard to find, as it was a massive tent off to the side of the new temporary stadium.

Harry made his way to the Champion's tent quite easily. The place was crowded by people and all were being barred entry. Harry found a hidden spot and took off his invisibility cloak, putting it back into his mokeskin bag. Harry slipped his way through until he got to the entrance, where there was a witch. Not just any witch though, one in Auror robes that had eye-catching pink hair standing guard. Harry made his way right to her.

She stood tall impeding his entry. "Hey! Nobody but the champions and those authorized are allowed in. Move away or you will be forcibly removed." She said in a clear commanding voice that was touched with irritation obviously stemming from having to say it over and over to anyone trying to gain unauthorized entry.

Harry grinned a little and responded facetiously. "Are Champions allowed in?"

He expected her to bite back at him, be sarcastic back, or even apologize. Harry wasn't ready for her response. She grabbed his upper arm forcibly and pretty well threw him forward into the tent, abandoning her post.

"Director! Director!" she called out and pulled him along to another female in auror robes. This one gave off quite the presence. Auburn hair, middle-aged and with a monocle in one eye. She gave a quick once over of the pink-haired female that had dragged him into the tent and then raised her eyebrows at seeing him. That was the only noticeable change in the seemingly unflappable woman.

"Good work, cadet Tonks." The older witch said without taking her eyes off of Harry. She quickly barked out a command. "Return to your post cadet Tonks." Her eyes flicked off him for a second as she made eye contact with the pink-haired cadet and gave her a simple nod.

Harry wasn't really sure what was going on with the auburn-haired witch. She was a director of the aurors? "Mr Potter I am Amelia Bones the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Please follow me." It may have been phrased politely but Harry knew this a command and she was not a witch to cause any issues with. Harry had no real choice but to follow her.

Amelia briskly marched to the side compartment of the entrance of this massive tent. The tent was originally meant to be used for the tournament organizing Committee and the Triwizard Champions. Due to the extenuating circumstances, and the ongoing saga of the missing Boy-Who-Lived, the tent was massively upgraded and was now a mobile command post. She led him from the room that her aurors had taken over this morning and into the section, she had claimed as her own office. She needed to conduct an interview with the teen as quickly as possible. Her task would be far easier without any form of outside interference. Tonks spotting the young man before the press or Hogwarts staff was beyond fortuitous.

Harry followed the witch into a room that had a desk with a lot of paperwork on it. There were half a dozen paper aeroplanes in a holding pattern circling the office as well. He watched her motion with her wand as she conducted the paper aeroplanes to unfold back into flat parchment and sort themselves neatly into a pile directly in front of the chair she was in. She beckoned him to sit in one of the two chairs facing her.

Harry watched as she directed her wand at a piece of parchment and she quickly wrote a short note before casting a spell she did not verbally intone and it folded itself into a paper aeroplane before zoomed out of the room. She then quickly skimmed the paperwork that were previously paper aeroplanes. He wished he knew what was going on. Why would he need to talk to the Director of the DMLE in person before he was allowed to compete? Did the investigation into his being named champion actually find out what happened?

Harry was marvelling at the woman as she worked with a single-minded purposefulness. She wasn't distracted by anything and not even given cursory glances to him. He felt she was keenly aware of him and if he made any sort of threatening manoeuvre, she'd respond lightning quick. Harry didn't know what to do with himself so he tried to say calm and sit watching her work. Did they know he had done the Dragon Power ritual?

That was his chief concern but he tried to use the calming exercises he had learned recently. They were exercises for calming his mind to begin Occlumency exercises each day. While Harry was waiting, for a total of two minutes, Amelia Bones was reading the latest reports from her department. There was only one good thing about this morning and that was the healthy-looking Harry Potter in front of her.

Amelia looked up as Harry caught the movement in the entrance to the office he was sitting in. Coming in through the door was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. He looked irritated until his eyes saw Harry Potter sitting in front of Amelia's desk. She had just summoned him in a way he did not appreciate, regardless of what was going on. Especially on catastrophic mornings like this one.

Before either male was able to acknowledge one another or even say something, she got things started. "Now that your magical guardian is here, Mr Potter, we can begin. This is an informal questioning into the matter of the missing person case for Harry James Potter. The conversation is being recorded by dictaquill as you can see to my right."

Harry swivelled his head back to see there was a quill working independent of human hands and it was writing out word for word what was being discussed.

"Is this really necessary Amelia? Harry is in good health, we can shut the case and I'll take charge of him." He said with aplomb after transfiguring the chair beside Harry into the chair he had in his own office. He adeptly sat into his throne-like high-backed chair.

"Excuse me but what is going on here? Why am I being questioned?" Harry interrupted quickly.

Both adults focused on him. "Mr Potter you were reported missing by your magical guardian and have not been located by any volunteer or law enforcement agents seeking to locate you. You were blocked from any form of communicating with you and your disappearance has been the major media story in the wizarding world. Once you failed to show up to the Weighing of the Wands ceremony your case was escalated."

"I was reported missing?" Harry asked rather confused by the information bomb he was just given. Volunteer groups were looking for him as well as law enforcement agents? Him being out of reach was the news story of the wizarding world? Why? He was just a 14 year old... What was the Weighing of the Wands ceremony? Why would the weight of his wand matter for the tournament? He did not recall his wand being given a weight when he bought it. Ollivander told him the length but not weight. Was it like muggle boxing? An official weighing in before a fight? That didn't make sense, boxing had weight classes, do wands have them as well? Were there school wands and competition wands? Was the weight important because this was a wand competition instead of using something like a staff? Was that even a thing? Harry's thoughts ran adrift from what was pertinent.

"Yes, well, Amelia you can see this has been sorted out now and Harry needs to be prepared with the rest of the Champions."

"Headmaster Dumbledore. While this is an informal questioning you are still required to only speak when spoken to. Remain quiet or you will be removed." Harry made a mental note to not upset this woman. Compared to McGonagall's version of stern, it would leave her looking like a declawed cat compared to this woman. McGonagall was a stern authoritarian that was a no-nonsense kind of person. One that had a palpable aura of discipline. Director Bones had the authority and discipline aspects down. Where she differed from the teacher, was her radiating feelings of power, fortitude and confidence as though she could handle anything you could throw at her.

"To answer your question, Mr Potter, your magical guardian, Headmaster Dumbledore, reported you missing and my department has been searching for your whereabouts ever since. As you arrived here unharmed, can you tell me where you have been since you were last seen in Diagon Alley?"

Huh, they knew he had been to Diagon Alley. His meeting with Bloodfang should be confidential if they follow muggle world banking privacy standards, so that should be fine. Though that did make his mind connect to a rather salient point.

"Wait, I think it would be best to clarify something first. I do not have a magical guardian." Harry stated with a frown on his face. As far as he was aware, he was legally considered an adult for the duration of the tournament. He'd sent his letter of withdrawal to Hogwarts stating he would be finding alternate education this year. Why was he reported missing? The frown deepened with his confusion.

"Mr Potter, all minors in the wizarding world have a guardian. Minors with muggle guardians must have a magical guardian to assist with making informed decisions on matters within the wizarding world. Since your guardians are listed as Vernon and Petunia Dursley you were assigned a magical guardian. Headmaster Dumbledore has assumed the role since your parent's death, according to the records we have on file."

It made sense that he should have a magical guardian but why had he never been informed? The Headmaster had never told him or helped him make any decisions in the magical world. He'd sent Hagrid to introduce him and the Weasley family took him shopping for school supplies. What were his responsibilities to Harry as his Magical Guardian? Had he failed Harry there too?

"Well, there is one major point of contention with this situation then. I am not a minor." The grin on his face must have shown because he got a puzzled look from Amelia Bones and he did not catch the Headmaster's by glancing over at him.

"Explain. Wizards are not considered an adult until they are 17."

Harry liked how she conducted herself. She was smart, direct, and straightforwardly dealt with him. He'd added a new element and she took it in stride asking for an explanation while giving him the counter-argument to why his statement should be false.

She did not accuse him of falsehood, though, as most of the adults he had ever dealt with would have. She asked for an explanation instead of assuming she knew better than him. Perhaps it was his grin that led to her treating him differently than he had always experienced from authority figures. Harry took a second to marvel at the Chamber of Secrets again. Just yesterday it had given him some educational material that was not related to magic. It was, from what Harry could tell, on expanding his rational abilities. How to think and present yourself logically. It would get immediate use. He had no idea there were actual terms for differing styles of argumentation.

"As I understand it, there were consequences beyond just being a Triwizard Champion. Let me present it with deductive reasoning:

If only adults are allowed entry into the tournament, all the Champions are adults.

Harry Potter is a Triwizard Champion.

Harry Potter is an adult.

I can tell you Gringotts confirmed the deductive argument was both valid and enforced by magic." Harry saw no reason to also let them know that it was only temporary while the magic of the goblet enforced the contract.

"I see." Was the simple reply from Director Bones. It was easy to see she was deep in thought on how the new information would affect things. Harry snuck a look at Dumbledore who was running his fingers along his beard. He too appeared deep in thought though their looks different. Amelia Bones was pensive and contemplative. Dumbledore was both of those just with an added air of resignation and frustration. Harry gave them a moment as neither looked like they were ready to continue the conversation immediately before he voiced his next question.

"I'm still at a loss of how this became a missing person's case."

Amelia quirked her head slight, diagonally to the left, as she focused back on the recently emancipated minor, giving him her full attention. "The case was opened when news broke of you no longer being seen in Hogwarts and after the magical guardian we had on file was unable to explain your absence."

That didn't make any sense, Harry realized. Dumbledore must not have allowed anyone to know he had withdrawn from Hogwarts. He had no idea how to legally do so, but the Director of the DMLE should have been made aware of that letter. "I informed Hogwarts, in a letter, that the Goblet of Fire chose me as a competitor for no named school. I decided it would be best to withdraw from Hogwarts and not attend it at present. They were informed I was seeking education elsewhere and due to the secure nature of my accommodations, I've been cut off from the outside world."

Harry had to hide a smile as the revelations changed Amelia Bones line of sight from Harry to the Headmaster. It seemed she did not enjoy information being withheld from her. Dumbledore though seemed ambivalent to this occurrence.

"And where have you been learning Harry? Hogwarts is the premier school of magic and the safest place for you. We can get you caught up to continue in your studies here, Harry my boy." Dumbledore told him with his normal patronizing grandfatherly tone.

"Safest place for me?" Harry scoffed and scowled at Dumbledore. He was upset with the man and Harry's cursory thoughts about him being a rather useless magical guardian was still percolating in his emotions.

"Mr Dumbledore, Mr Potter is an adult and can make his own decisions at this time." Harry loved the blatant use of a patronizing tone she reciprocated at the aged wizard. She turned to give her attention fully to Harry. "If you were not in fact missing, and have no concerns, I will end this interview and apologize for wasting your time. Our investigation was conducted with the understanding you are a minor at the request of your former magical guardian. We can shift any _further_ inquiries that way."

"I have not been missing, Director, I have been studying magic with time for nothing else. Are you able to tell me what this Weighing of the Wands ceremony you referenced earlier was? You said I missed it but I don't even know what it is and why I wasn't told about it."

Amelia continued her death glare at the headmaster as Harry asked spoke. She did not look impressed. "The Weighing of the Wands is a traditional part of the tournament. A wand maker comes to check that the wands of the Champions are in good working order and it is normally a large meet and greet with the press. This year, they had a podium for the Champions to be asked questions. They were told, by your former Headmaster, that you were aware of the event and had failed to show up." She practically growled her final statement.

"Thank you for _fully_ informing me, Director Bones," Harry blatantly failed to hide his smirk at his sarcastic comment. He wasn't sure where this newfound confidence had come from. He was enjoying the results of his changed demeanour when dealing with authority figures. He'd have never taken an open shot, even as minor of a single sarcastic comment, at Dumbledore before. It wasn't a concern of Harry's as it could be a combination of a number of innocuous things like he was an adult now, Amelia Bones shared his opinions, and he was still annoyed at the Headmaster for his lack of action regarding him.

"Mr Potter, you are needed with the other champions. The task starts shortly. Please exit out the door and continue to the left. You can't miss it." The low key growl in her voice hadn't dissipated and Harry reminded himself, mentally, that he should not piss off this witch. He gave her a nod and a quick thanks before he fled from the room. He quickly followed the directions and found the appropriate room.

He walked out to the left and into where he saw Cedric, Fleur and Viktor all congregated. He walked into the large open room and made his way towards the other champions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw a review hoping for weekly updates and I'm making no promises. I have many priorities that take precedence over fanfiction in my life. I do enjoy writing this and expect to continue, when I have opportunities.
> 
> There are some reviews saying this is a bashing fic. Writing is subjective, feel that way if you'd like to. Harry is 14 and still just a boy. He's angry, upset and feels betrayed. He's hacked off and it's from his perspective. It won't continue. Harry grows as a person as the fic moves forward.
> 
> Beta'd 10/8/19 by Nauze


	4. First Task

"Harry! Where have you been?" Cedric practically yelled out, so startled to see the young man.

Harry continued stepping further towards the three champions that were standing together. He smiled at Cedric. Harry thought he would be more upset with the Hufflepuff considering Cedric had done nothing to help stop his house's hate. The boy's greeting threw that plan right out the window as he seemed to have a genuine care about Harry's well being.

"I've been around," Harry responded neutrally, not sure how much or what he even wanted to say. He really just wanted to get the task over with and go back to his sanctuary. He still felt worn out from the ritual.

"Around? You haven't been around here, that's for sure! Didn't you see the papers? They've done almost daily articles on your disappearance. You weren't kidnapped were you?"

The questions flew out of Cedric's mouth. Harry was a little wide-eyed as he'd not been on this side of the Hufflepuff loyalty before. He'd already seen the negative side both in this year and in his second year.

"Well… I just finished meeting with Director Bones and I told her I was never missing. Plus, I'm an emancipated minor now who withdrew from Hogwarts, s'not like I should've been here either. McGonagall was sent a letter explaining all of this… I'm pretty sure the director and headmaster are discussing just that right now." Smiling at that final thought.

Harry was ambivalent to all the media frenzy and he simply hadn't seen it in person. Being told you're the main wizarding news story and understanding what that meant, in reality, were two very different things. Harry had experienced staring and strangers wanting to meet him but nothing much beyond that. Him being 11 years old on his return to the wizarding world helped. Adults did not want to make such a young boy feel even more uncomfortable than he already, clearly, was. Harry had kept his gaze on Cedric who just nodded, not knowing how to respond to the younger boy.

"You withdrew from Hogwarts?" Fleur asked incredulously. It was pretty well unheard of for a student to withdraw from the prestigious school. She had heard rumours of some substandard teaching in a few classes but Hogwarts still had world-renowned professors. Flitwick was a Charms Master of the highest degree. His background as a world champion duellist made his resumé all the more prestigious. When he retired from the circuit, he was sought after by more than just magical schools.

McGonagall was the only apprentice Dumbledore had taken in Transfiguration and he was the leading Transfiguration Master for what felt like the last century. Dumbledore himself was one of the most knowledgeable wizards holding Masteries in multiple fields. Beyond those three, Severus Snape was the youngest person ever to have created a new potion. That achievement met the requirements to doll out an automatic Mastery in Potions, making the man the youngest ever to have achieved that feat as well.

Babbling was an up and coming Runes Mistress that had been highly respected in her major publication that bestowed her mastery. Her ongoing academic publishing was considered to be at the pinnacle of what was currently being produced in academia. She was sought after to consult on projects and did exceptionally well with it. Septima Vector was the Arithmancy Professor here and she also was one of the most desired consultants in her field of study. There may be a few weak points in their faculty but there was still a reason Hogwarts was the foremost school in the magical world. It held the position of being renowned beyond its longevity and famous founders.

Voluntarily leaving Hogwarts was not something one did on a whim. There must be a reason beyond wanting to be privately tutored. Fleur did not know Harry well enough to really ask that question nor was the final few minutes before the First Task the ideal place to get to know him.

Harry did not want to elaborate on his situation with anyone. The fewer people knew, the better it would be for him. "Given my history here, it's for the best" was all he was willing to say. He caught her frown as she heard his answer and it felt a little odd that she inquired beyond what Cedric has asked. The same girl that had been nigh unapproachable.

Cedric was the kind of person that would inquire about his well being. Fleur, from the little Harry had noticed of her before the selection night, had seemed haughty and standoffish. Not the personality type to inquire further about one of her competitors unless it could give her an edge. Her frown didn't seem like it was because she didn't get any useful information. He also hadn't discerned any haughty or frigid tone to her questions or demeanour towards him. Viktor had just silently observed the discussion.

No further questions could be answered as the three heads of the schools came in with Crouch and Bagman.

"Great Scot! The young man we've all been looking for!" Bagman exclaimed upon seeing Harry.

"Bagman, the Task is supposed to start in five minutes, this is not the time for your fawning. The boy is here get on with it." Crouch grouched at the man.

Harry just focused on keeping himself calm. He had a couple of plans based on his earlier studies in the Chamber but he noticed a real problem since he woke up. It hurt to cast magic. He assumed his body was still recovering from the ritual and that casting magic was ill-advised. Not ideal when facing a dragon.

"Very well," Bagman said with a wince. It was not the first time that someone had taken him to task that morning. Ludo turned towards the champions and beckoned them to gather around him. He dramatically withdrew a bag from his robes. Harry noticed it was the same bag that was beside the dragon models he'd seen before he finished preparing the ritual. He had taken the Horntail… Would that matter?

"The First Task is... Dragons!" Enunciating the sentence as if he was announcing the opening of the World Cup yet again. Harry did his best to look like he had no idea that the task involved those fearsome magical creatures. Cedric certainly didn't know, given his rapidly paling face; Delacour and Krum did not look very surprised at the announcement. Any guilt he'd had for having inadvertently found out that those were the creatures that would be part of the First Task was now assuaged.

It was at this point that the three Heads of school came in, along with Director Bones and at least three aurors he'd not seen that morning.

The jovial features on Bagman's face disappeared as he saw them enter. "Ludo, there has been a..." She stopped and quickly checked exactly who was in the room before completing her thoughts. "There has been an incident. One that is still currently under investigation."

"What kind of accident?" Bagman asked quickly, not liking where this was going. He had bets to cover after all.

Bones commandeered everyone's attention in the room. "Everyone here needs to be aware as it has rather drastic effects on this First Task. Four dragons were brought, one for each of you. It was decided that the four were to be given a sleeping draught to ensure they were... lively... for the event today. Three of those four dragons died." Nobody missed her glare at Crouch and Bagman when she paused to consider which words to use.

The entire room froze, including Harry. His shock was genuine as well. Was it his ritual that killed the dragons? The instructions had not mentioned the immense pain he undertook. Now just hours after his ritual was completed three dragons were dead? Bones hadn't said which three yet. Maybe it was sabotage by something unrelated to his ritual.

"Was it foul play, Aunty?" Cedric was the first to break the silence that had engulfed the tent immediately after the proclamation of the deaths of the dragons.

Amelia gave him a withering look. Harry was sure they've had that unspoken conversation on ensuring he publicly addressed her appropriately. He wondered if the two were related.

"As Champions" she nods in the four teenagers direction, "the Heads of the three competing schools, and my aurors involved in the investigation, I have permitted this information to be released to you. However, it will not become public knowledge until I say so." She surveyed everyone in the room to see if there were any objections to it.

"The preliminary working theory is that the dragons were poisoned." The room was quiet as they waited for Madame Bones to explain further. "The handlers brewed a sleeping draught. The three deceased dragons all received doses that were beyond the standard and the Horntail received a double dosage. The Common Welsh Green received only a very minor dose. The handlers decided upon the dosages based on their levels of agitation. The Green required a very minor amount as they sleep far more by their very nature. The sole surviving dragon is being treated as we speak for all manners of ingestible poisons."

Harry didn't have to act out any emotions to try and blend in. He was bewildered and worried. First of all, the deaths of the dragons were shocking. If the book he had learned from were correct on dragons, then they had far more magical potential than he did. It had never crossed his mind that using them in the ritual would damage anywhere close to killing them. They were beings of magic. The power of individual rituals were supposedly minor. How could he have pulled enough magic out of them to end their lives?

Shock and disgust at the deaths of three majestic magical creatures flooded through him. Harry had literally stood on the dragons as he painted his blood onto them. He knew they couldn't use that to trace it back to him because the blood runes always vanished, consumed by the ritual. It had been the case in the other times he had used them in other rituals. He didn't even consider it wouldn't continue to work the same way. Would he have done the ritual if he knew he would sacrifice the three dragons just for some power gains?

The second thing that threw him for a loop was the incredible luck he had regarding the investigations leading theory. The ministry's plan for the sleep potion and his needs for the ritual were already inconceivably matched to perfection. Now the investigations were pointing at anything but him. How did he ever get so lucky?

The conversations around him had continued while he was lost in his thoughts. It had left him with a dazed look. Fleur bumped shoulders with him, lightly, to jar him back to his surroundings. Fleeting thoughts flit through his bain. Was she paying attention to him more than should be expected? Was she being kind to him? He thought she looked at him with a bit of worry.

Harry focused back and quickly paid attention as Bagman was already talking. "still being investigated." He let out a nervous chuckle. "The task will go forward with just a single dragon to face now. Inside the bag are the representations of the four dragons you would have faced. The order in which you'll face the single Common Welsh Green will be decided by draw as each has a number on it."

Bagman turned to the French Champion. "Ladies first, Miss Delacour." He said holding the bag out for her.

The Beauxbatons Champion put her hand in, with some trepidation, and withdrew a vibrantly red dragon with the number three draped around its neck. She did seem pleased by that result. Standing next to Fleur was Cedric and he withdrew the next dragon. It was the green dragon that looked docile compared to the movements of the dragon model in Fleur's hand. The red dragon was moving and still trying to escape her grasp. The Welsh Green dragon in Cedric's hand looked as if it was ready to doze off. It had the number one on it. Cedric would be going first.

Bagman stepped forward and held the bag for Krum to pull from next. He withdrew a dragon that was engulfed by his large hand. Harry could not get a good look at it. "Second! That means our youngest champion will be the encore! How exciting!" Harry reached into the bag while thinking he'd rather like to hex the man for being so happy about him facing off against a dragon, regardless of order. He withdrew his hand and found it held a rather poor depiction of the black dragon he'd seen up close last night. It was a very poor replica compared to the one he had taken last night. It must have been done on short notice. The charms to make it move or act like a dragon were pitiful compared to the others.

Having noticed the dragon's breed, the guilt he had for his actions last night vanished. He would have been facing the deadliest dragon in existence! It was the most fierce of the non-extinct dragon breeds- the Hungarian Horntail. A nasty piece of work that would have been a formidable foe for any living wizard. For a fourteen-year-old to face it alone was utter insanity. The ritual sure seemed like an amazing idea knowing which dragon he would have faced. He was still uneasy with the rituals and this wouldn't alleviate the feeling.

"When the cannon goes off, Cedric, you, are to come out and begin the task." Cedric nodded and then voiced the question all four champions were wondering simultaneously.

"Excuse me Mr Bagman, is there, a erm, a, uh, specific thing we are supposed to accomplish? Are we supposed to subdue the dragon?" The nerves Diggory was feeling were intense. The normally well-spoken young man was trying to put on a brave face.

Harry saw Crouch look like he wanted to strangle the man. He had not even told the champions what they were to be doing in the task. Bagman was far too easily distracted. The man was a buffoon and this was a giant game to him instead of a dangerous task to be wary of. Harry wondered if the three champions were rethinking their decision to willingly put their name into the Goblet, now that they were aware they would face an XXXXX creature.

Bagman quickly filled them in on what the actual task was before all of the non-competitors were ushered out. The champions were to have time for themselves- to prepare and focus without distraction. Harry was glad for it. He was dreading Dumbledore coming over and trying to get information out of him. He sat in the closest chair to him and just tried to relax and let his mind wander.

It was interesting for him to think back about his time in the wizarding world and what had just happened this lively morning. Nobody had said hi to him or wanted to just see how he was doing. Cedric came the closest but even he wanted to know where he had been. His earlier epiphany that people were not concerned for him, as a person, was shown to be correct again. The only person who had acted a little odd was Fleur Delacour. Her break from her haughty exterior was interesting and he didn't know why she'd done that. Her nudging him and the fleeting look were interesting points to consider. It wasn't the question that she had asked him so much as the body language and tone of voice. The nudge had been something to help him as she noticed he wasn't paying attention.

Harry sank further into the chair he was waiting in. He was going fourth and ecstatic about it. By the time the dragon got to him, it would have faced the other three. Cedric would be facing a fresh dragon and by the time it was his turn, hopefully, it would be substantially easier. He had a few plans but they may not be needed. Director Bones indicated the dragon was being treated for poisoning. Based off on his stays in the hospital wing and dosed up on potions, he usually felt sleepy and off. Maybe the dragon would be as high on potions as he was after a quidditch injury. Especially considering that casting magic was something he was hoping to avoid as much as possible.

The turns went quickly as Cedric was quickly called out, following the cannon blast, and Harry focused simply on staying calm. The occlumency exercises were of use in this endeavour. He did not allow his focus to drift when Krum exited the tent to begin his turn. He'd actually ignored the others, not that they had tried to talk to him or even get his attention. Even a tired and less dangerous breed was still XXXXX levels of dangerous.

When Krum had left, Fleur tried to get his attention but Harry was zoned out. She'd hoped to catch his eye but she wasn't able to. She got up from her chair and tapped his shoulder lightly to get his attention. Harry opened his eyes to see Fleur Delacour standing over him. He made eye contact with her, green meeting blue, and he wondered about her again.

"May I call you 'arry?" She asked politely, again missing her 'holier than thou' attitude. He simply nodded with no idea how to deal with a situation like this let alone an older beauty like Fleur. "I was hoping to be able to talk to you during this school year. My Father asked me to try and reacquaint our families if you are open to it."

Harry cocked his head to the side as he heard 'reacquaint'. "Your family and mine were related?" He asked with a frown. Nobody had told him he had French family members, much fewer members like this impossibly beautiful silvery blonde-haired young woman.

She giggled and smiled softly at him. "Non," she said placing her hand on his shoulder. "Papa's parents were good friends with your father's parents."

That was exciting for Harry! Nobody had told him anything about his grandparents and meeting some of their friends would be awesome! "Are they coming to watch the tournament?" Realizing that wasn't completely clear, he hastily added, "Your grandparents, I mean?"

Her face dropped the smile giving way to a neutral look. "Non, they passed on a few years ago." Instincts which Harry didn't know he had kicked in and he placed his hand on hers in comfort. Their absence obviously affected her. She looked down at their touching hands and her soft smile returned. Looking directly at him again she quietly finished her thought. "They would have loved to have met you though, I am sure."

Their moment was interrupted by the cannon going off signalling Fleur was supposed to start the task now. She looked back at him one more time and quickly leaned forward to peck his cheek with her perfect lips. "Be safe 'arry" she breathed into his ear as she slowly stood before squaring her shoulders and walking out. His emotions were warring with each other for how to react. He was elated that someone had talked about his family and said something other than the useless anecdotes everyone repeated as if they all took a seminar with a three-point presentation.

There were three things everyone always mentioned. His physical likeness to his father but with his mother's eyes. His parents were Gryffindors and that his parents loved him so much they sacrificed themselves for him. In a single conversation, that was cut very short, she'd dropped two bombshells on him. Their families were apparently acquainted in the past and her family may know about his grandparents. Nobody had even told him their names! Surely she must at least know that!

The other emotion trying to battling to win the race for prominence was pure, unadulterated, lust. Fleur was otherworldly in her looks. Silvery blonde hair that no muggle could ever have naturally and deep dark blue, entrancing, eyes. These features were not the reason for this lust. It was her body's movements and where his natural line of sight was positioned when looking forward. He was sitting and she walked over to him remaining standing. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. The kiss didn't do it either. It was the eyeful of cleavage that she gave him. Her clothes were modest but her upper body was perpendicular to his upper body. His eyes were a foot away from the most revealed state of breasts he had ever seen. Gravity had gripped her top and pulled it towards the earth's surface. The millimetres of movement opened up a glorious sight for a teenage boy.

He had no idea if it was done on purpose or why she had kissed him on the cheek. Were the French more amorous and flirty? It was the positioning of him being seated and her bending down that had given him the inadvertent look that turned his cheeks rosy. She hadn't made any other kind of overt flirting, that he was aware of. He wouldn't question it further. He'd thank today's never-ceasing luck. Seventeen-year-old knockout gorgeous girls don't date down three years. The best looking 7th-year females at Hogwarts weren't scouring the fourth years looking for a date. The momentary view of a few inches of her bared chest that weren't covered by her large bra would be chalked up to luck.

Harry idly noted how she did not seem concerned about the task really. Her body language had not shown it at least. She was interesting, that was for sure. Did her family really know his? Harry wasn't sure how he could verify it. If she was tasked with offering to reacquaint their families, why hadn't she talked to him shortly after arriving? She would have had many opportunities before he hid in the Chamber. Was there a good reason for that? He'd have to be careful; she could just be trying to mess with his head and take away his focus from the tournament.

Harry decided to clear his head and wait in silence for his task to start. He did not want to miss the cannon going off. Harry had done as he assumed Salazar would've wanted. He'd used his brain. The instructions had said he could not bring in anything but his wand and uniform. If he left his bag in the tent and summoned it only a few feet into the arena that would be a helpful trick. It was an easy way of being able to bring in preparations. He'd considered using his most prized possession, his father's cloak, but he didn't want to let everyone know he possessed an invisibility cloak. He'd come up with a few ideas but wanted to wait and see how the dragon responded.

Only a few minutes later, the cannon went off. The tent must have been behind a silencing because the second he went through the tent flaps, he could hear the dull roar of the crowd. He entered the stadium wearing the outfit Dobby had picked out for him. There was no insignia of any school affiliation like all the other champions had. He was representing only himself. He strode further into the temporary stadium noting how full it was. He saw people cheering and many jeering. Just like when he played quidditch, he let everything fade into the background and focused on the task. He saw the massive beast and was struck by the obvious thought that it had not had a good day.

There were gashes all over its scales and one eye looked to have been heavily damaged. It reminded him of the basilisk eyes when Fawkes had clawed them. Furthermore, Harry noted the dragon was exhausted. It was trying to stay awake but was still falling asleep. It was like a toddler demanding to not go to bed when their body was betraying them and they were falling asleep in spite of their fervent wishes.

Harry observed the dragon as it's eyelid kept on drooping shut. He waited a minute as the beast did, in fact, fall asleep. Harry summoned the mokeskin pouch and when it reached him he withdrew his trusty broom. He ignored the pain of casting magic while holding the summoning charm. He mounted his broom and quickly flew to the nest. He grabbed the golden egg that was only twenty feet from the massive sleeping green dragon. After securing the egg he flew towards the exit and left the arena accomplishing his task. The dragon hadn't even woken up as he flew around the arena.

As he got through the exit, Harry started laughing. A full-blown belly laugh. He dropped to his knees, he was laughing so hard! What a ridiculous underwhelming task! He'd been so worked up and stressed about facing a dragon. When the real McCoy came, it was a total joke! With him going fourth, the dragon did not even have the energy to keep awake. He couldn't help but continue to laugh as the stress bled out of his system in raucous laughter.

Harry put his broom back in his pouch and walked out of the tunnel into where Madame Pomfrey was checking over the champions. Harry was ushered past the other champions and saw their condition. Cedric had multiple burn spots where Harry saw a salve had been added to restore his skin. The hufflepuff looked tired and beat up. His attempt had taken the longest. Krum looked a little tired. He was in better shape than Diggory but still looked like he'd been in a scuffle if not a fight.

Fleur had no burn marks on her but she looked winded. She had beads of sweat on her face and it appeared she had just performed an arduous task. Didn't her task end a few minutes ago? Why was she still perspiring? Harry wasn't able to catch her attention at this time and Pomfrey told Harry to sit on the fourth bed. He'd seen her in this mood before so he did exactly as he was told. He was rather experienced in the futility of trying to do anything other than what he was ordered to do around the matron. Some battles were best not fought.

She began diagnosing him and after only a minute she cleared him of any health problems. He already knew that as he'd just flown on his broom and then back. He was worried, for nought, that she may find results from the ritual he had undergone this morning. Other than his use of magic causing discomfort, he felt fine and no different than before. He did not feel any obvious effects of the ritual. It's not like he was suddenly extra powerful or anything.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry Potter was not exactly pleased with this new predicament. He'd been somewhat coerced into sitting up on a podium with the other three Champions. It was simply expected of him to be going along with whatever the organizers had arranged. He was to meet with the press following the event. He hadn't wanted to be in the tournament and he definitely did not want to be paraded in front of the press. He was tired, sore and exhausted from the ritual that killed the three dragons. The other champions all seemed to have expected it so he was willing to go along with it as long as they all were. There were many things he could get upset about and answering a few questions about this circus should be fine.

All four of the Champions would be taking questions from the massive assembly of media personnel that were in attendance. As he made his way to the closest seat to the door many of them were staring directly at Harry like he was the champion with the allure. Bagman, the pillock, was moderating the press event. Harry noticed another podium spot set up with a few people within a short distance from the podium. They were seated in a small row of chairs. Perhaps it was a general podium where the media could address other parties instead of the champions. Bagman engaged his voice amplification charm to get things started.

"Welcome esteemed guests and media members! We shall conduct this press opportunity just as we did with the Weighing of the Wands ceremony, but this time with Harry Potter!" He began the opening of the press conference and Harry did not appreciate being singled out.

"We will have a Q&A section with the Champions and the tournament organizers as well. Please remember to state your name, your affiliation, and whom you are addressing before asking your question. Without further ado; let us begin."

Harry watched, dreading everything about this, as he saw the first person be designated to ask a question first, a portly middle-aged man. "Boris Gelding, Bulgarian Bugle, and my question is for Mr Potter. Can you explain how you were found, including the circumstances, as you were the subject of a massive missing person's manhunt."

It was obvious to all that Harry did not look happy with the question. Harry hated that they were prying into his personal life and not keeping to the tournament. He took a moment to think about how he wanted to answer. The crowd of reporters looked ravenous to hear this tale. Harry was not media savvy and had never given any kind of interview. He was nervous and, frankly, too cranky to be putting on a show like this. Since he reemerged, he'd been questioned and then competed against a dragon. Then he was forced to undergo medical evaluation, receive his score, given the update on the next task, and then he was pushed into a mandatory press event.

He didn't even want to be in the tournament and nobody had taken his wants or needs into consideration once. Only Fleur, in their very brief interaction, had treated him like a person. He was not in the headspace to answer questions politely and was openly scowling at the reporter.

He answered the question as bluntly as a hammer would do to a bone."I was never a missing person! And I was not found. The instructions I had been given said there was a task to attend today with no information about what time or any details beyond just the date! I was told, just this morning, that I missed a ceremony that nobody bothered to inform me of. I was not ever missing! I withdrew from Hogwarts, by letter. It's not my problem they can't communicate!" He was trying to hold back his anger but he was so done with this day.

The reporter named Boris looked highly pleased with the response as he was ushered away from the spot designated for asking questions. No follow up questions were being permitted. The next person in the queue spoke up next.

"Barbara Smith, New York Wizarding Times, and my question is for Mr Potter. Where have you been staying and studying if you no longer attend Hogwarts? Can you tell us about your educational plans and living arrangements?"

Harry hadn't even looked up. He was trying to keep focused on being calm. This was testing his frayed patience. When he looked up, his emerald eyes bored into the woman. "No, my personal life is private." Harry felt like he could barely hear anything other than the throbbing of his blood pumping.

A wave of murmurs took over the room following that declaration and Harry watched the third person step up to ask a question, a disgustingly flamboyant looking woman with horrid glasses and far too much makeup. "Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet, Mr Potter do you think your parents would be proud of you entering the tournament to garner more fame and publicity?"

That did it! Whatever final hold he had on his emotions had now tipped Harry past the boiling point. He looked over the swarm of reporters and they were all focused on him. He looked at the person that was supposed to be moderating the press conference and Bagman looked equally interested in the question. He shook his head in disgust at the adult that was supposed to be moderating.

"This is an event with more than just me up here. I've been asked every. Single. Question so far! I will not answer any further questions until all the other champions answer an equal number." His eyes burned with the inner fury he felt. His magic was coalescing around him. He wasn't a bloody show dog that would jump and sit for their amusement. If this was part of the task then it was for all of them equally.

The champions were arranged on the podium in the order they underwent the first task. Fleur was sitting closest to him and she smiled at him that she hid from the press by turning her head towards him and shaking out her long lustrous hair out with her hand. Harry looked at Bagman and the man finally realized he should actually moderate.

"Yes, Yes! As our youngest Champion has said, this is a press conference for more than just him! So please direct equal numbers of questions to all of our four wonderful contestants!" He boomed out taking back control. When the man did his job he was quite good at it. There was just too much vacant space between his ears.

"Did you have a follow-up question for anyone Miss Skeeter?" Bagman asked as the woman was still at the front.

She looked back at Harry. "My question was asked before the change to the new format. Mr Potter, will you answer it?"

Harry glanced to Bagman and the man shrugged his shoulders a little before nodding like he thought he should answer. Harry sighed.

"I'm sorry I've forgotten what you asked Missus Skeet."

"It's, Rita Skeeter, Miss Rita Skeeter." She glowered at the affront. How dare he not know of such a preeminent journalist like herself. Many in the crowd chortled and snickered at the exchange. Rita was not well-liked by her compatriots.

"My question is, what do you think your parents would say about you entering into this tournament? Would they be proud of your attention-seeking behaviour?" There was a vicious undertone to her words no matter how sweet she tried to make it sound.

Harry had bad press in his second year and had seen rampant speculation about how he got into the tournament in the short time he was at Hogwarts, after the selection feast. A decisive statement would be a good idea, he figured. He knew he would have to answer and he actually did recall the question, he just didn't have an answer thought out yet. He wanted the response to be without any gap so it seemed like it was off the cuff.

"I'm not sure who told you that I entered the tournament. I have told anyone who has asked the honest truth: I did not enter myself." Each word of the last sentence was punctuated with a slow yet firm cadence.

"I was told I had to compete by Mr Crouch, Mr Bagman and Headmaster Dumbledore. If there was a way out of competing I would have taken it." Harry was resolute and spared only a half-second to glare at anyone who would dare to claim otherwise.

"The Tournament's name makes it clear it was meant for three competitors, not four! I was entered under no school. I am just happy to just get through the first task without injury. I don't care about my score, the prizes, or eternal glory. Attention seeking behaviour? I've never even been interviewed until now! I wish you'd all let me just compete as a side note and focus on those three." He gestured with his hand to his fellows sitting beside him.

Harry directed his eyes back onto the Daily Prophet reporter as he finished his tirade. "As for my parents? I hope they'd be as furious and disgusted as I am for being forced to take part in this. It's hard to know when I've never even had a conversation with them," his voice had broken out quietly but with each successive word, his voice grew louder and by the end, it was commanding and frankly somewhat intimidating. As far as he was concerned, this issue was resolved as of now.

He was beyond furious about being asked about his parents. How would he know what they would think? He'd only had one memory of them – their death. His hands were shaking underneath the press table. With all the flashes of the cameras, even his vision was spotty. His mouth was dry and his whole body was pulsing from adrenaline and fatigue.

Bagman quickly moved on from the rebuke and lingering awkwardness by indicating the next reporter to come up and ask a question. Fleur was asked about her method for the task and she eloquently explained how it worked. Cedric was asked about his feelings on facing the dragon first as it got easier with each successive attempt. He'd answered it politically correct – that it was the luck of the draw. He thought his score reflected that; Cedric was in first followed by Fleur then Viktor third, and Harry in fourth.

The press conference had continued with various questions and answers. Harry was hardly paying attention to any of it. Three rounds of questions went to the other champions, interspersed with questions for the Heads of the educational institutes and organizing Committee before Harry would be asked to answer a new question. By that time, his hands were now steady and he had regained his composure.

"Marie Dumont, Witch Weekly France, Mr Potter, I will not pry into your personal life as you've made it clear you don't wish to talk about it." The woman paused to gleefully look at him. She quite obviously enjoyed the interchange with the last reporter to ask him a question. "My question is tournament-related, please bear with me for a moment. Our sources indicate you do not have a girlfriend or betrothed. With the Yule Ball coming up, have you given any thought as to your date or dance partner for opening the Ball?"

"The Yule Ball?" Harry parroted back confused. He looked to his fellow contestants and saw that both Fleur and Viktor seemed unfazed by the question. Cedric's reaction could be taken either way.

"Yes, the Ball on the 25th of December. It is a long-standing event that is a part of all Triwizard Tournaments. The Champions dance with a partner and open the Ball as they are the guests of honour for the occasion." The reporter kindly elaborate.

Harry glared over at the tournament organizers. Then realized he'd need to actually answer the question. He didn't let his anger at being unaware of another aspect of the tournament get directed to the polite lady. "I'm sorry, I was only told about today's task and the information for the next one. Your question makes it the first time I've been informed about the Ball. I'd prefer to not attend anything I'm not required to attend."

The reporter looked let down at the very thought he would skip such an event. She was a Teen Witch Weekly reporter and was hoping to have a new angle to write on no matter the answer! This response killed the article that she had been planning to write and possibly follow up with successive articles.

"Harry, all Champions are required to attend the Yule Ball. Your attendance is mandatory; I am afraid it is a part of the tournament." Bagman unhelpfully added with a nervous chuckle. Harry thought it was so very kind of Bagman to inform him in front of everyone. He was not happy with this being dropped on him now with a room full of press watching his reaction. His fury bristled and required release. With everyone in the room watching him, he took a long slow deep breath and then another.

"First, you don't tell me about the Wand Weighing Ceremony and now, secondly, I'm finding out from a reporter's question that I'm to attend a Yule Ball! I was told three dragon's died today! For Merlin's sake, there are four champions in a triwizard, a TRI-wizard, tournament! You all told me it's a three task tournament! That is at least five events that I now know about!." Harry didn't let anyone interrupt him as he wanted to get this all out in front of the media quickly. He was going to throw them to the wolves.

"A total lack of security on the Goblet of fire, abhorrent failure to communicate all the important event to a champion, and now three dead dragons! Do I need to watch for poison at the Yule Ball? Is there actually going to be some security and protection around here? Has your investigation into how I became a champion yielded any results?" His sneer that adorned his face would make even Snape proud. "How long will you continue to make an absolute mockery of this tournament?"

Harry had had enough of this press conference. He was just pissed right off now. He'd been on edge ever since he woke up in pain from the ritual. He knew he couldn't stay any longer. There would be a lot more questions now that he spewed out such acidic remarks. He had his cloak and knew that if he could get somewhere unseen, even briefly, he could sneak back to the Chamber of Secrets.

The media were focused on the responses of the tournament Committee and Harry decided to make a break for it. He was at the end of the podium, closest to the room's back exit. He slipped off his chair and quickly moved out of the room through the entrance that the Champions had come in from. There was nobody in the room so he slipped his cloak out of the pouch and put it on as quickly as he could. He darted towards the exit before people could search for him.

He caught the flash of silvery blonde hair in his peripheral vision and saw Fleur had come after him. She'd been very kind to him up there. When he was getting out of control she'd made herself prominent, drawing attention to herself instead of him. She'd smiled at him and seemed generally sympathetic to his discomfort up there. There was very little she could actually accomplish with her efforts though. Any kind of displays of remote affection would bring a whole slew of articles that would exacerbate the issue, not help it.

He just wanted to get away from the media. Even as enticing as Fleur could be, he wouldn't risk revealing himself even to her. He hadn't intended to let so much of his frustrations slip out but he was tired and exhausted. He needed to go rest and recover from the dragon ritual. He had to get away before they could corner him. He needed time to figure out how to become independent and protect himself. He wasn't very far along in his occlumency studying yet, he had basic defences and some help in the sorting and processing of information but he was still a beginner. Under his cloak, he felt safe. It wasn't hard to make his escape to the grounds and once he was there, he would have no issues getting back to his new home

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

After returning to his Chamber, yesterday, he ate and soaked in the tub. That was the extent of the rest of his day. He'd fallen asleep early in the evening and woken in the late morning the next day. His body had needed the rest and he felt a lot better the second time he'd woken up since the Dragon Power Ritual. Today he was going to organize and plan his next steps.

Part of what he had been learning was creating a better mindset. As vaunted as the Gryffindor's 'charge first and ask questions later', action-orientated response to every problem was, it had almost led to his death every year since his return to the magical world.

What business did he have in his first year trying to assist in protecting the stone? He had not even been aware of the magical world for a year yet. The only reason he was still alive was due to other's mistakes. He could see that clearly now.

There was a rational sense in having traps that a trio of first-years could bypass to ensure that they would be slowed down until a staff member could intercept them and suitably punish them. Fluffy was the primary deterrent keeping students being involved where they shouldn't be. The Cerberus was restrained to not be able to get within six feet of the door Harry vividly recalled when the stumbled into Fluffy the first time. Between alert wards and seeing a snarling Cerberus, his common sense should have kicked in and proceed to leave the corridor well alone. Other students must've discovered the trapdoor's guardian and driven all thoughts of returning from their heads.

The mistake that allowed him to keep living was Quirrell's. The second he had the Stone, he should have been incapacitated or outright killed. He had lept in head-first and should've failed in his efforts. In his second year, the part in his brain responsible for the fight-or-flight responses must've been on out of commission. Fighting a basilisk was just plain suicide for a student with less than two years of magical education, whose best offensive spells were schoolyard hexes. Whatever part of the brain is designed to engage his survival instincts had obviously not read the operating manual, if it was even functioning at all. The first time his brain was aware that the monster was a snake, one that could kill by making direct eye contact, it should have pushed every rational part of his brain to ensure he did not seek it out.

In his third year, he actually began to engage in some form of forethought, with the caveat that it happened only after he almost had his soul sucked out. In fairness, no thirteen years old should be put into a situation where they are in such proximity to a dementor. He had almost begged Professor Lupin for private tutoring to protect himself. It had paid off in spades as he kept Sirius, Hermione and himself from losing their souls. The planning for the actual whole encounter was seriously subpar.

The past three years had almost lead to multiple deaths. Harry wanted no part in blaming others. If he was going to be taking control of his life, he had to be responsible for all of his actions. He could blame Dumbledore for his upbringing, he could expose the past few years events to the press or even tell Director Bones about it. If she was related to Susan Bones, then her response to finding out that a basilisk was roaming about the school that her family member attended would cause quite a lot of havoc.

Harry had been thinking since he found a sanctuary all for himself. He was trying to be independent and had to plan ahead. He had to focus on bettering himself, he had to be proactive. He could get upset about how unfair his circumstances were, he could moan about how his terrible upbringing was, he could continue to gaze into his past and find fault in all the people that were around him all day every day, but none of that would help him become a better wizard.

When he looked back on his upbringing, he realized he shouldn't begrudge it. Those experiences shaped him into who he is today. He wasn't a delusional pampered prince like Draco Malfoy. He wasn't a shy boy who was bested by his own fears like Neville Longbottom. Harry knew he was by no means perfect, yet he was content with who he was. He wasn't happy with many of the actions in his past and he would learn from them.

Salazar's memoir talked about it openly. He'd made a great many mistakes in his life. Even when he knew he was heading towards his end he did not indulge himself in self-pity. Instead, he spent years preparing a set of rituals for his future descendants. He transformed the Chamber of Secrets into a place capable of instructing his heirs even a millennia later. Learn from your mistakes, analyze your past and then move on from it.

It is what he was doing now. He'd learned he couldn't leap without looking. He needed to improve his efforts in learning magic and prepare himself. He was working on being more organized. He had mentally began creating a list of priorities and things to investigate.

Harry had finished eating and made his way into the study. He sat down at the desk and decided to prioritize his next steps. His independence was predicated on him passing three OWL wanded exams. His magical education would allow him to stay alive in the upcoming tasks and better understand the world he was a part of. It had to take precedence over anything else. Harry needed to go over each topic in his head then consolidate it into actionable items. He picked up the quill and began to create his list.

Topics to Investigate:

Tom Riddle

The memory of the night of his parents' deaths made this abundantly clear. Riddle was trying to kill him specifically. If he was there to kill James Potter, he could've just left when the deed was done. If the plan was to wipe out the Potter family in its entirety, then why would he be willing to spare Lily Potter? She had no blood relation to the Potters... Was that why Riddle was willing to spare her? Riddle and his pureblood support base hated muggle-borns, there should be very little consideration to spare her. They killed and desecrated muggles, muggleborn, and blood traitors regularly. Harry's analysis left two likely conclusions. Riddle was there to wipe out the Potter bloodline or he was there to kill Harry specifically.

This led to two avenues of investigation. First, research the Potter family history to see if he could discover any reason that Riddle might have to kill off his family. Secondarily, to try to divine why a Dark Lord would try and kill a fifteen-month-old toddler. Dumbledore probably knew but he had refused to answer before. Harry added the two points under the topic.

Invisibility Cloak

Harry wrote out the words as he recalled just why he needed to research his family heirloom. Invisibility cloaks were not capable of hiding a human soul from detection. Homenum Revelio was a well-known charm that was the standard detection spell because it was so very reliable. Again, he had two ideas to look into. First, souls and how they interact with magic. Surviving the killing curse could have altered his soul, so it may be why the charm failed? The charm detected him when he was not under the cloak, he knew. He also needed to figure out if it was something to do with his soul and any random invisibility cloak or if it was just his cloak.

The Chamber of Secrets

That led Harry to the next topic. The Chamber of Secrets itself. The first time he had returned he noticed the lack of destruction and the cleanliness of the place. Dobby knew he was not really in Hogwarts… The next point to consider was the Dragon Power ritual. Harry was not willing to believe that it was a coincidence that there were four dragons on Hogwarts premises and the ritual-tracking book revealing such a specific ritual. Somehow the Chamber was adapting to its surroundings, changing and redirecting his education. He at first thought it was pre-programmed, but the Dragon Ritual closed that line of thought.

The Chamber was far more than a large cave with a study, once he really thought about it. Nobody had been watching to see if he had gone into the Chamber or if he was coming out of it. At least a half a dozen people who were aware of its existence and that only Harry could access it, shouldn't there be someone watching it or a detection ward placed at its entrance? He'd disappeared while he was at the school and a manhunt to find him was created, so why was it ignored?

If Salazar's book was correct and he was somehow distantly related to Slytherin then, at minimum, half of his ancestors were. Tom Riddle, supposedly, also had an ancestor that was a part of his magical lineage. That meant there were at least two branches of families related to Salazar Slytherin. It was inconceivable that neither family had ever searched for it. Harry couldn't fathom that Tom Riddle was the very first person to have found his way into the Chamber. No other Parselmouth had successfully searched for the place in a millennium?

Based on what Harry knew of the muggle myths, like the Loch Ness Monster and Bigfoot, people had devoted vast resources trying to prove or disprove their existence. Years of people's lives were spent researching them and all of the clues that had ever been unearthed about them.

The standard book on the history of the Hogwarts blatantly mentions it. Countless students had been sorted into the house named after the man. The very house where the ambitious and cunning students were said to be sorted. Was there not an ambitious and cunning student that would have found it?

Teenagers don't normally just discover a myth like this and then keep their mouth shut. Riddle should have lorded it over his contemporaries. It should have been the proof that he was the Slytherin's heir! Gloating was a prerequisite for becoming a Dark Lord! If the man's diary was capable of controlling the basilisk, why didn't he use that as leverage? Like an 'If you don't capitulate to my demands I'll release a basilisk on all your offspring.'

Even Harry's experience with the chamber should have made far larger waves. The story of him saving Ginny should have been big news. There should have been multiple discussions about it with the Weasley family. Bill and Charlie should have thanked him profusely when he met them before the World Cup. Their reactions were rather muted. Wouldn't Charlie, a dragon handler, have wanted to go and see a dead giant snake?

Harry himself had never considered returning until he needed somewhere to sequester. Nobody had requested he provide access for anyone else. Not even Dumbledore asked to get in and ensure the safety of the students, considering Harry hadn't entered the basilisk's lair to see if it was another one. Something powerful was at work. The Chamber of Secrets is an open secret. Someone should have found it before Riddle. Something was compelling people to keep it a secret. Even Harry didn't want to talk to anyone about it. Harry constricted his thoughts to two short subtopics and moved on.

_Potter Accounts and History_

Harry would need to meet with Bloodfang once he was able to, to take control of his inheritance. He had to try and find out why his dad hadn't taken up his position as head of the family. Bloodfang had not deemed any incongruity. It was a simple statement of fact for him. Was it a common practice during times of war? He could try and find out about the property of his parents and grandparents. Were they stored somewhere or disposed of? This was pretty well on hold until he could see what was in the vaults.

_House Elves_

How does the bond between himself and Dobby work exactly? What were their limits and its history? Harry was interested in them generally. Researching about it was not a priority at all.

_Triwizard Tournament_

He had until February to figure out the task and prepare for it. He needed to try and crack the clue, his Golden Egg. General magical training would also be important. The most pressing issue was this Yule Ball. He needed to learn how to dance and comport himself at a traditional dance. He was apparently a guest of honour. Where could he get a date and learn to dance? It was a month away. Harry did not want to make it a priority but given the time constraint, he would have to. Harry completed his list and looked it over.

_Tom Riddle - Why kill an infant? Why kill off Potter family?_

_Invisibility Cloak- Soul Magic? Invisibility cloaks_

_Chamber of Secrets - How does it adapt? How does it enforce its secret?_

_Potter Accounts and History - Meet Bloodfang after emancipation._

_House Elves - History and abilities_

_Triwizard Tournament -Yule Ball, Second Task_

House-elves could wait. Dobby took care of his necessities and seemed aboundingly happy with the current arrangements. The Potter Accounts and History were tempting to look into but it could be done anytime. He'd already waited thirteen years and he could put it off for now. Plus, he did not want to head out into the wizarding world and be seen. A trip to Gringotts wouldn't be conspicuous. The Chamber of Secrets was simply spectacular however, sadly, he had no idea of where to start researching or an inkling into how the magic behind it worked. Portraits were the only type of magic he knew of that could adapt or interact with his presence here. Dobby had claimed there were no portraits of any kind in the entire area. He was at a dead end.

The topic that he had some ideas on who to ask was Tom Riddle. Researching why the psychopath was after him was the most important item on the list in the long run. In the meanwhile, it could wait. The one he was yearning to delve into, and hopefully solve, was his invisibility cloak. It was his father's cloak! It helped create a unique anomaly of magic! He wanted to know everything there was to know about it as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately, it was something that could wait as well. It was infinitely useful for avoiding detection but not important to understand in the here and now. The Yule Ball had the shortest timeline and should be his priority. He needed to learn how to dance, manners, etiquette, and anything else he would be expected to know regardless of whether anyone had bothered to teach him. This would be a good step towards becoming his own man.

He could do the easy route here. He could go back up to Hogwarts proper and ask an adult what he should do. He could ask where he could learn to dance or if one was willing to teach him, perhaps Professor McGonagall or Madame Pomfrey. He could fall back into the role of being a child and let the teacher hold his hand as they walked him through the problem. Or, he could figure it out on his own, ensure he knew everything he would be expected to and not to just cohere to the base expectations. This could be an opportunity to go beyond doing what is just merely adequate.

Harry sat back in his chair and thought of where he could find out about dancing lessons. There were dance studios in the muggle world. He let his mind wander, hoping it would bridge the gap between needing lessons and how to find out where to get some. He couldn't just fail and go back to being a boy, he was going to be his own man and make sure he was prepared for this! He let himself unfocus as he glanced around the room for anything that could help.

He roamed his eyes across the desk and over the room. Neatly stacked blank books were not going to help him. None were glowing at the moment. None were going to spontaneously give him the information. He saw his ritual book sitting with the prize he liberated from the dragon handlers tent. The little dragon he'd pocketed. He smiled as he grabbed the book and dragon replica placing them in front of him. He had a couple of days until his next ritual, the seventh day of the week as it was only the 4th day of the week now, but he knew it was prudent to see if it had shown up. He had needed multiple days to prepare for the one he completed yesterday.

He went to move the dragon off the book and place it on the parchment, upon which he had just circled the most immediate task he needed to accomplish when his hands grasped the model dragon and he immediately dropped it. The dragon was a few inches off the desk when he realized the little model was warm to the touch! Not warm as if it had sat in a warm room and matched the ambient room temperature. No! This dragon was warmer than the room's temperature. He could feel it emanating heat, around its chest, when he grabbed it to move it!

He watched, amazed, as the little dragon woke up from its nap. It reared its head at him for having the gall to drop her while she was sleeping! It growled at him! Harry thought back to the other models which Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor got. Hadn't they stopped moving within a minute or so? They were just replicas of the magical creatures that they should have faced, according to Bagman.

Harry whirled and summoned his mokeskin pouch. He'd placed the second replica he'd gotten in it. He quickly withdrew the miniature, which denoted the order for the champions, out of the bag. It was still the same. A fake dragon but with the animation charms worn off. He held his holly and phoenix feather wand in his dominant hand. He recalled what he'd been practising with charms, that they were mostly fueled by intent and power, and called upon his magic to power the charm as much as he could muster. He took a moment to make sure he was intending the spell correctly too. He deliberately spoke the incantation, finite incantatem, with power and authority. The overpowered spell left his wand and hit the non-moving replica. He watched as the spellwork used to imitate the physical likeness of the dragon unravelled into a plain rock. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It was just a replica. The rock had just been hastily done because he'd stolen the well done one. The animation charms had just lasted longer.

He glanced back at the still animated replica and it had cuddled up in a ball. It had squawked at his waking it than rather cutely went back to rest. Harry ran his fingers over it. He hadn't noticed just how well they had done the spellwork. The dragon produced heat, it had the spiked tail and its body was covered in lifelike scales. He had gotten up close and personal with the real dragon when he painted it with his own blood. Whoever did this artwork was a real master of their craft. He couldn't find a single blemish or error. It was perfection personified. As he ran his hand along its length he could hear a low rumbling. The little creature was purring!

Harry refocused now. He needed to find something like a wizarding phone book. Harry blinked at the deja vu moment. He whirled around and found the little book Bloodfang had given him. The goblin had told him he could find capable tutors using the Wizarding Directory. He opened the first page.

_About:_

_The Wizarding Directory is a self-updating list of all wizarding businesses that have applied and have been approved to list themselves. Within the book, you will find every business that has listed itself. Each firm will contain the following information: the name of the business, a concise list of their products or service offerings, their contact information, and a brief description of the company._

_Instructions:_

_There are two ways of using the directory. The first is to have it display all of the information at once for the witch or wizard to peruse manually. The second option is to search by topic and only the relevant businesses will be listed._

_To show the entire contents of the directory turn to page 2. Once on the second page tap your wand to it and say 'reveal contents'. To search by topic repeat the first step of placing your wand on the page and then say your topic._

Harry continued to read the information on the first page. The businesses listed in this book were not registered with the Ministry of Magic. The Wizarding Directory was published and maintained by the International Confederation of Wizards. This book listed all of the businesses that were registered and allowed to operate within the country he had gotten it from.

Harry turned the page over and followed the directions. He tapped his wand and said 'dance'. The page quickly filled with information. He glanced over to the third page and it also was full of information. He started reading from the top noting they were in alphabetical order.

_Anderson Academy_

_Anderson Academy is a family-run academy for dance. Specializing in traditional wizarding dance instruction. The studio was founded by the late George Anderson in 1896. George had a distinguished career as a Tap Dancer…._

Harry groaned. The first one was a write-off. How was he to pick between all of these options? Just read them in order and hope he stumbles into something useful? He read the next one.

_Beatrice School of Performing Arts_

_Beatrice Adams, the famous retired singer, actor, dancer, and musician provides private lessons across all the performing arts. From contemporary piano lessons to play acting Beatrice provides individualized tutoring for young witches prior to Hogwarts and through the Summer breaks. A proper lady should be well rounded and Beatrice…._

Ugh! The second one was useless. They were relevant to the specific topic but he didn't have time itemize each one that was may do what he is looking for and then to correspond and research them all. Even then how would he figure out which one would teach him properly? Inspiration took suddenly; he may know who to ask!

"Dobby" Harry spoke to the empty room.

Dobby appeared beside him. "Yes, Master Harry?" The elf was almost bobbing up and down in excitement just for being called.

"While you were working for the Malfoy family did they ever talk about or use a dance studio? Like, did Draco get sent away to learn how to dance somewhere?"

The little elf physically shuddered, as if a shiver had run down his entire body when the dreaded name of his old masters was spoken aloud. He was slightly downcast from it until he realized he could help the Great Harry Potter Sirs!

"Dobby knows! Dobby knows!" Harry kept his face level while he inwardly cringed at the overly exuberant elf that was actually bouncing where he stood.

"Do you know the name of the studio or how to contact it?"

Dobby's mood instantly fell. "No Dobby be bad forgetful elf!" It was a good thing Harry had forbidden him from hurting himself without permission.

"Can you tell me if you recognize any of the ones in this book?" He asked while taking the book off the desk. He orientated it so Dobby would be able to read as he lowered it so the book was at a readable height.

Dobby's beady eyes focused on the book and he shook his head after carefully going through both pages. Harry turned the page wondering if there was more than just two pages worth of information. Words filled the third page and took up a third of the fourth. Dobby studied the words and abruptly brought his arm up to point at one he recognized.

"Missy Cissy be sending bad little master to this one!"

Harry turned the book back so he could read it and saw the name: Lacroix Ballet Academy. Harry read it had been in business since 1482 and specialized in tutoring highly selective clientele and producing burgeoning ballet stars. They were more than a school of dance as they regularly promoted their own small scale productions as well.

Being a fourteen-year-old boy he had no way to pick between them nor fully understand everything that was offered in the description of the business. The Malfoy family would be conscious of perceptions and would be able to evaluate top instructors. They would send their heir to a prestigious school. He had no way to garner other reliable options. Not wasting time, Harry grabbed a clean sheet of parchment from a desk drawer and began to compose his letter, as the instructions said to send an owl to Madame Lacroix for any inquiries.

_Madame Lacroix_

_My name is Harry Potter and I understand, you take inquiries on behalf of the Lacroix Ballet Academy. Yesterday I learnt I am to be a guest of honour at the Yule Ball that is a part of the Triwizard Tournament which is being hosted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A reporter indicated I am to participate in the opening dance and that my attendance is mandatory._

_I find myself facing the large issue of not knowing how to dance. The Ball is one month from today and I need to learn how to dance in a rather short period of time. Your advert in the Wizarding Directory did not mention the price of your services, the type of instruction offered, nor did it include dates and times available for lessons. I would like to inquire about all three items. I would be rather grateful for an expedited response. At present only my owl, Hedwig, is able to locate me. Please give her your reply so I am able to receive it._

_Harry Potter_

Harry had written as neatly as he could. The normal chicken scrawl that he sent to his friends wouldn't reflect well on him now. His hand muscles were protesting the precision he tried to enforce upon it. He looked it over with a critical eye and was satisfied. There were no ink smudges and most of his writing was tidily done. He pulled on the bottom edge to lift it off the desk but met some minor resistance.

The silly slumbering simulacrum had rested its head and neck on the top right corner of his letter. He smiled remembering he thought it would make a nice paperweight for his desk when he took it.

Harry pulled a little harder and successfully yanked the page out from the dragon. It growled at him and began to stretch as it woke up before it intended. Harry ignored it as he folded the paper into thirds and placed it back down on the desk so he could press on the newly folded parchment. He carefully lined it up so it was in equal thirds and the edges were perfectly uniform before creasing the paper. Gingerly, he picked it up and held it aloft in his left hand.

He opened the drawer, where he had gotten the parchment previously, and leafed through it for an appropriate envelope. His right hand carefully clutched an envelope and he brought his attention back to his desk. The six-inch tall Hungarian Horntail was standing tall. Its wings outstretched and it eyed him malevolently. Harry watched as it pushed its neck forward and opened wide its maw. Fire spewed from its depths and lit his carefully constructed creation alight!

The paper was lengthwise towards the dragon and a quarter of it was engulfed in flames from the fireball that came out of the tiny toy dragon! Harry cursed as his letter was now ruined. He dropped the now smouldering letter and scowled at the dragon. His list of priority topics now had burnt bits all over it as well. It was time to end the cute creature. It was a nice paperweight but had now annoyed him. Inconspicuously he drew his wand and repeated his earlier actions.

He drew upon his cascading magic and focused very clearly on his intent. This was going to be even more overpowered than the last charm he'd used to return the dragon to whatever state it had started at before the spellwork to make it a little dragon. The charm was expertly cast and perfectly accurate, left his wand and closed the distance to its target within the blink of an eye. As spell made contact, Harry watched in disbelief his spell be reflected off its scales! The spell careened upwards and dissipated into the stone ceiling of the study. Harry's jaw dropped. That powerful a counterspell should have destroyed all the spellwork on the animated likeness of a dragon. What just happened? How did it not destroy the simulacrum?

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are onto how I used the word 'sentient' over 'sapient' originally in chapter two. HNZ kindly pointed out the minor word issue; I wasn't really aware there was a difference between the two words. I'd only ever heard of 'sapient' word when used in the specific context of 'homo sapiens'. I did very little study in the scientific fields and my biology classes were many years ago now. Is the word only used in an academic settings? I changed it as HNZ suggested but may revert back to 'sentient'. As I reflected further on it, I believe in vernacular the word 'sentient' encompasses the meaning of both word's academic definitions. Technically incorrect when put in layman's terms. It's not my forte so if someone knows better leave a review or pm to let me know. Again, really minor thing with the story as the reviewer pointed out.
> 
> What a fun chapter! I've been just waiting to really get into some of the major ideas and plot points that spawned this fic. I love the gongshow and totally underwhelming first task, the paperweight, and how the earlier changes are starting bear fruit. The majority of this chapter was more dialogue driven with characters beginning to actually interact. The first few chapters pretty well had to lack dialogue. I didn't want to stretch out the opening any longer or force Harry into situations just to add dialogue. I wanted him isolated and introspective at the start of his character development. The first three chapters read like an extended prologue.
> 
> As I said at the start I'm enjoying writing this fic, people seem to enjoy reading it and I'll endeavor to keep writing it.


	5. Enter the Dragon

_Eleven and twelve-year-olds, novices in the study of magic, are taught using incantations and wand movements. Their initial steps into their magical education are purposefully lead to the assumption that magic is simple. Say a few words, do the wand motions correctly, and concentrate and you will produce your result. They are taught intention, willpower and tricked into using their magical power. To start, there is virtually no creativity. As they entrench themselves deeper into their magical education they are taught the most basic theories of magic, including the four pillars of magic. The four aspects of magic are not nearly as differentiated as the novice is taught. As one begins to study silent casting, the most adept students will begin to understand the real importance of words and body movements._

_Incantations and wand movements are for the purpose of making the child believe what they are trying to do is possible. You do not ask a child to hold their wand and produce a light at the end of it without speaking or using wand motions. You cannot say to a child that you want them to jump as high as the tallest tree and expect good results. The child must believe the goal is achievable; even a novice will recognize the unjust request and their effort will be most unsatisfactory. Children are impressionable and have a unique worldview. They have ingrained and preconceived understandings of how things should work; what child believes they can knock out an adult? A child that can cast lumos is equally as capable of casting stupefy. There is not a single credible theoretical basis, in magical theory, that could refute it. Given that truth, why does it take until they have begun to reach adolescence to see admirable results casting the stupefy?_

_Children are taught one step at a time. They are breastfed until they can be weaned off the teets. No infant comes out of the womb ready to eat food of real substance, so they are given milk. When novices begin to learn magic they are, magically, far more capable than the pedestrian pace of the first two years. The primary function of the educator, whether they understand what they are doing or not, is training the children's belief system. They are not ready for meat, they believe that all they are capable of ingesting is milk from their mother teets. They need to be weaned off before they yearn for real substance._

_The first spell they learn in Charms class is lumos, a feat so minor even squibs are capable of producing the same result. The professor demonstrates the spell, the children see how minor it is, and they are told it is the easiest spell there is to cast. They can see and analyze the result with their senses. They only believe it is magic because of what they can hear, see, taste, and touch. When they attempt the spell, their mind and body act in cohesion. The first two years of their formal education are focused on moulding them into pupils that can, finally, be ready to begin their real tutelage._

_To start, they learn how capable magic is, they learn how to use the library, they learn discipline, and they learn the reading and writing skills required to accelerate their education. Magically, they are as capable as they were as first-year students. If taught my way, third-year students would be ready for discarding exaggerated wand movements and incantations all together. I have quarrelled with my fellow founders on not wasting the first two years. My standards are far beyond my dear Helga's. Even Rowena takes me to task for pushing the students too hard. Godric understands. You do not become all that you can be if you are not pushed to do so! Children are treated far too kindly, they are babied, and they are pandered to instead of taught how harsh this world truly is. This I know and believe._

_Belief, the topic that I have rambled on about with anecdotes. Returning to the heart of the matter, what is it? Is belief intent? Is it willpower? Does one not try harder when they believe what they are doing is possible? Does belief empower them?_

_Does one not dream about what they can do with magic and does one not dare to believe in their own dreams? Which of the four aspects of magic is belief? There is a universal truth that is fervently found in magic. The more you learn, the more you comprehend how little you truly understand._

_Believe in yourself! Believe in the impossible! Do not let your mind limit your magic! Magic has guidelines, not rules! And never forget, magic is sentient._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Twenty-five targets from forty paces. Not quite as easy had he first had thought. Harry kept firing piercing hex after piercing hex. Every single spell he now cast was done silently. He was still working on minimizing the movements of his wand when spellcasting. Apparently, modern wizards were lazy. They did not _believe_; they did not push themselves. Salazar's books indicated Harry should have been casting silently at the end of his second year. There was very little theory needed for silent casting. Using verbal cues helped the wizard or witch to properly intend the spell. When one says 'lumos' they know, specifically, what effect they want.

Whenever Flitwick teaches the spell, he shows the wand motion and very carefully goes through the proper pronunciation. For eleven-year-olds, these were just verbal and physical ways to ensure your intent was specific to the result you wanted. The diminutive professor shows exactly what the spell should look like. When the first-year students cast the spell, they use their physical body, mental focus, and their magic power to create a very specific effect, the tip of your wand lighting up in the same manner as the professors did. The charm 'lumos' can be varied far beyond just the minor light on the end of your wand.

The explanations of why things were taught as they were were helping Harry. He sped through all of his course work these days. He'd rummaged through his trunk to find his first, second and third-year texts and could now cast all of the spells silently. Silent casting was not very difficult once he understood its mechanisms. He just had to practice.

Harry had been a rather poor student in his first three years. He had not enjoyed reading and learning magic. There were always so very many tedious assignments and theory that was easy to comprehend. So, why he did he have to regurgitate it in five different ways just to make the required length for the assignments he was regularly given? He hated reading the same boring background information from four different authors just because the professor had assigned six inches and a minimum of three sources, meaning four or more if you wanted a decent grade. According to the founder of the school, the exercise of researching and restating facts was to improve his literary skills, not his magical ones. That was one place muggles were ahead of wizards. They taught students entire classes on reading and writing proficiency.

Harry was spending huge portions of his day practising magic. He had picked up the fifth-year books, of the three wanded subjects, to ensure he would be able to work towards his OWLs. Charms, Transfiguration, and DADA were all progressing really well. It was amazing how much he could accomplish without spending hours writing papers. With giving it all his effort and focus, he learned new skills quickly. He would need to be able to write out the theory for the OWL exams but he wasn't worried. He knew it inside and out, thanks to Salazar's works.

The change in tuition style had truly freed the boy. He no longer was stifled, as if he was trying to drink everything with a child's straw. The rainbow-coloured, whirly, twirly, bendy straw. The kind of ridiculously flamboyant toy that catches the eye but is horrendous at performing its primary function. It feels like you've accomplished something amazing when you are finally able to get any amount of liquid through the rainbow-coloured monstrosity. His deceased mentor had taken the lid off and removed the rainbow straw. Now he had a normal glass and could drink it all in, as quickly as he could handle it.

Harry finally completed this round, hitting the 25th one. Sweat was running down his face; he had to wipe it away from his eyes again. Three hours of relentless spell casting was finally complete. Most days he followed the same schedule. Wake up, do some form of physical workout, eat, spellcasting, eat, study, eat, magical practice/study, eat, and free time. The first meal was nutrition for recovering from his first workout. After any magical workout, he needed more calories. His day started at six and his second meal was normally just after ten in the morning.

After exerting himself physically and then magically he moved on to his mind work out. Most days he would find a book glowing for him to study out of. This part of his education was congruent with his wishes. He needed to get his three OWLs. The only other topic he seemed to be forced into, on a regular basis, was Runes. They were so common in the wizarding world he would have to learn them. He already knew what happened when he tried to skip reading a book. None of the others would get added, or freshly revealed, information. Not until he'd actually studied it would it let him progress.

His new form of education was simple and straightforward. It was self-paced and held back only by his work ethic and time constraints. He didn't have to waste mental capacity keeping track of what was due when. There wasn't pressure to read the chapter before class started. No wasting time trying to look busy when he had completed his task because he didn't want to upset the professor.

Harry moved to the small table he had in his bedroom. He took many of his meals there. Dobby, the ever efficient elf, already had his meal ready for him. Above his meal was the reply he had received from Madame Lacroix. He was going to be meeting her tonight at 6 pm. Her reply was rather short and asking him to come so late was peculiar, he thought. Business hours are ending, or have ended, by then. It worked for him as his normal daily training regime ended with dinner.

He seldom saw any books glow with new information after dinner. There was no daily task list that was provided for him. In the mornings, books did not light up for him to study. The memoir had made it clear that Salazar trained in the morning physically and magically every single day. The discussion on rituals explained it clearly.

Rituals were not really capable of making one great and powerful. A wizard could complete the 3x3x7 set or even attempt 3x7x7 set and it wouldn't make them a mighty wizard on its own. Rituals that were designed to do this were unnatural and Salazar, always, warned him off of even debating them. Magic exacted a price for it. The rituals Salazar had designed for his heirs were to augment their natural abilities and add to their maximum potential. Harry understood it in terms of sports. All people have genetic dispositions. Some are born with the capabilities others wished came naturally to them. At the beginning stages of their development, they will be far ahead of their competitors. It is not enough for the most serious of athletes.

At the top levels, good genetics only increases their maximum potential, and very few ever reach it. Athletes dedicate countless hours every day to work on their craft. Their sleep patterns, their diet, their exercise regime, their coaching, and so on– matters most. Those with the best genetics can only maintain their top spot if they match the commitment their competitors make. The point of the rituals was to put the Slytherin heirs at the top of the totem pole with the assumption they will do the work required to be there. It adds to their maximum potential, no more no less.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry had followed the instructions on the letter, well, to the letter. He'd used the floo to arrive at the Lacroix Ballet Academy. He wasn't sure exactly where it was but the floo trip seemed a lot longer than his trip from the Burrow to Diagon Alley. It was fortunate that the floo access at the Three Broomsticks was open to the general public. Just like with the Leaky Cauldron, it brought people and just coming in to use the free public floo made most patrons into customers. On the way in or out they get some kind of food or drink. Honest people don't like getting free things. It makes them want to pay it back. It was a sound and proven business tactic.

Arriving at the ballet studio fifteen minutes early, he stopped to watch. A girl was going through exercises with her hand on a wooden railing and an older woman watching with a critical eye. Neither of them had bothered to glance at the newcomer, focused on whatever it was that they were doing. The girl practising and the teacher correcting or commenting.

At exactly 6 pm, the two stopped. The young gal thanked her teacher and walked off to what Harry guessed was a change room. The woman turned on her heel and looked directly at him.

"Mr Potter I presume?" She asked. She did not look for his scar like almost every adult did upon meeting him.

"Yes ma'am, feel free to call me Harry." He replied with a nervous smile.

She did not return it. She looked him up and down instead. What she was looking for, he had no idea. She swept her eyes from head to toe more than once before she said anything further.

"I am Madame Lacroix. Please come to my office." She purposefully strode out of the studio area and walked past Harry towards a hallway. She set a brisk pace which Harry scurried to catch up to. She swept into a lavish office. Muggle pictures adorned the wall of women in ballet outfits in various poses. Harry could see how incredibly ordered the room was. Dobby would be in heaven here with how organized everything was.

She sat down behind her desk and beckoned him to the solitary chair in front of her desk. He sat down and looked back at her.

"To begin with I would like to have some questions answered." The woman could simply be described as stately. Impeccably put together with her hair in a tightly wrapped bun. She could easily be pulled out of a history book where she was sitting beside a Prime Minister or President. She gave off that kind of air of composure.

Harry slowly nodded his head. "That seems reasonable." He responded slowly.

"You are aware this is a ballet studio?" She asked crisply.

Harry nodded.

"You are aware Ballet and Ballroom dancing aren't the same thing?"

Harry's eyes widened a little realizing he hadn't checked if the academy teaches anything beyond ballet. He'd just gone with Dobby's memory. His mind whirled to the girl practising when he came in and his torturous mind immediately pictured Draco in a leotard. He noticeably grimaced.

Harry flushed in embarrassment. "Err, I'm not really, uh, sure?"

"Who told you that I educate prominent heirs in _very_ rare circumstances?"

"Nar...Narcissa Malfoy?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Narcissa Malfoy told you I provide these services?" She asked in an accusing manner as if she knew he was lying.

"No- no- not exactly?" He stuttered in response to being caught in his lie.

"Then who exactly told you." Could this woman be McGonagall's sister? Uncanny.

"Her former house-elf."

"A House elf?" Harry actually looked back up at her eyes now. Her eyebrow was delicately raised in slight surprise.

"Yes, I, uh, freed him from the Malfoy's because they abused him… He remembered your company's name from when he was their elf."

"I see."

She stared at him measuringly.

"Correct me if I'm mistaken, you have no formal dance instruction, you will be taking part in the Yule Ball of the Triwizard Tournament, and your first action is to ask a house elf's advice to request instruction from a Ballet Academy?"

At this point, there was really very little to worry about being embarrassed about. The sparse logic behind his actions, if there was any, would be rather tedious to explain. The worst she could do would be to kick him out and blab about the affair to throngs of reporters. He'd endured bad media and had always faced the ridicule of others. What did he lose?

"Yes ma'am."

She did not comment; she stared at him for a few seconds clearly trying to formulate her next move. His answers seemed to be throwing her for a loop.

"Mr Potter, I took this meeting out of curiosity as much as anything else. Do you know why that could be?"

Harry scrutinized her words taking a moment to think before responding.

"Not really ma'am. I'd assume it's to do with me being the Boy-Who-Lived?" He couldn't help but scowl at the hyphenated name.

"Yes and no." That response puzzled him. He let her explain.

"The short answer is you are an enigma. Even this meeting brings up more questions than it answers."

Harry frowned in silence. He wasn't really sure what the elegant woman was getting at.

"Since that fateful day, you have been a wizarding celebrity without precedence."

That didn't add up in his head. Without precedence? Quirking his head to the right Harry asked, "How so?"

"You're not aware?" she retorted quickly at him. Harry felt like an abashed schoolboy. There was nothing easy about this conversation. She gave no quarter.

"Well, it was explained to me that I was the Boy-Who-Lived when I was eleven. That I'm famous because I survived the killing curse and in doing so stopped my parent's murderer?"

If she noticed his word choice which didn't make it clear that the Dark Lord was dead, like normal, she didn't say it. Neither did her reaction.

"It is far more than that; it's a conglomeration of more than just surviving a curse... It was _the _curse. _The _curse that hasn't failed to kill, a target it hit, with a track record over a millennium and a half long."

She kept going. "Really, that's just the tip of the iceberg. There is far far more to it or simply surviving may have just been an interesting feat noted in books. Partly it was that the aberration of your survival vanquished an actual Dark Lord. Your home country was losing its wizarding civil war. Continental Europe had refused to involve itself after their loses to Grindelwald. Your living prevented all the other nations from having to join and that fed your fame."

Harry sat transfixed listening to her wax on about his fame. Hagrid had never provided these kinds of thoughts. Harry had not spared even errant thoughts on his fame.

"You-Know-Who was a real Dark Lord. Grindelwald was... kind... compared to him. The german mad man may have been as powerful but he wasn't nearly so cruel. He didn't wipe out families with sadistic actions, his men did not violate women in unnatural ways for sheer amusement, neither he nor his men forced family members to kill their own kin, and so much worse…"

Her voice went quiet as she trailed off lost in memories best forgotten.

Harry waited, not really sure what to say. All he knew of Grindelwald was that Albus Dumbledore defeated the man. It was one of his most cited accomplishments, alongside his work on the uses of dragon blood with Nicholas Flamel.

"That is not all." She started out again, quietly. "You were secreted away and nobody heard anything of you for nearly a decade. There were always reports on you but they all turned out to be falsified information. The first real report anyone had about you was when the Daily Prophet informed everyone you were sorted into Gryffindor, like your parents, and were named the youngest Seeker in a century," she chuckled softly. "The second thing the public learns of you is you were exceptional yet again."

Harry looked at her oddly. "Which house I was sorted into and getting on the quidditch team was reported across the UK?" He didn't remember hearing or reading about that.

"Yes but not just there. I read about it in France and I'm sure many more countries reported on it."

"In France and more! Why would they do that?"

"I just told you, Mr Potter."

"Just because I prevented them from fighting Voldemort?" That didn't seem to be quite enough reason to follow the life of a child from another country.

She took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled.

"There is just too much you do not understand and we have strayed rather far from the main topic. Let us return to it."

Harry wanted to continue on but disregarded his thoughts on the matter. He did need dance instruction and hoped this would work out. The lady was reminding him of a French McGonagall, though not quite so rigid. She seemed cross with him at the start. He thought she was getting gradually warmer in her interaction with him.

"You are an enigma because what everyone expected to hear and see of you is not what is known. Dumbledore has kept your life more private than anyone could have ever successfully guessed. Now, you are once again the very centre of a historic international tournament. A tournament full of drama and intrigue."

Harry was getting annoyed she wasn't getting to the point. Could she not just have talked to him about teaching him to dance?

"Do you know what we do here?"

Harry lightly huffed at the question. His earlier impression was wrong. She was not McGonagall. A bastardized amalgamation of McGonagall and Dumbledore fit better. The posture and hard exterior of the cat animagus professor mixed the awfully annoying habit of answering a question with another question like Dumbledore.

"You teach dance and specialize in ballet?"

She looked at him like he was but a small child being educated about the wider world by his parents.

"This is Lacroix Ballet Academy. My family has, for generations, produced wizarding ballet stars. We are the premier school for ballet in the European wizarding world. This is not your neighbourhood dance school. There are no classes for ballroom dancing here. There are but highly coveted spots in our school and small productions." She wasn't boasting in her delivery, she was just giving him a statement of fact.

"Oh... so you don't teach what I need then?" Harry was forlorn that he'd just wasted a couple of days. Hopefully, she would at least give him a lead on where he could learn so this wasn't a total waste of time.

"Did I say that hmm?" She looked cross with him as she continued to question him sharply.

"Do you know how ballet productions are funded?"

Harry groaned inaudibly. The damn woman kept avoiding answering his questions directly.

"No." He wondered if she just liked to make him admit his ignorance over and over.

"We sell tickets to our productions but the gates don't even cover the cost. This studio is funded by wealthy donors who have long supported this academy. Sons and daughters of the wealthy patrons can pay for private instruction in preparing their heirs for events like your Yule Ball."

Ah, that made sense. Harry wondered if the Potter family had ever contributed. The Malfoy family must have done so to get Draco here to learn.

"Did previous generations of my family ever become a patron of the academy?" He looked at her with a faint hope that he knew was just fool's hope.

"The Potter's did not."

Harry had learned from this conversation already. He wasn't going to make an assumption here or put words into her mouth. He waited for her to speak attentively. It didn't seem like she would take this meeting when she could have informed him she wouldn't.

"As I say, you are quite the puzzle. Regardless, I doubt you have the necessary wealth to foot the amount required to be a patron here." She looked at him expectant of a response.

"I don't have access to my Family Vault yet. I don't think my trust vault would cover it." He understood that the donation would have to be very generous.

"I imagine it would not."

She kept staring at him with silent judgement before responding.

"There could be another arrangement between us if you are interested."

Harry sat forward in his chair, just a little further. "What kind of arrangement?" He asked with interest.

"I have many conditions you must agree to before we even get to that." She stated.

"What kind of conditions?"

"Before we get to that you must understand something about my tutelage. Your skill, as a dancer, will reflect directly upon me and I will never allow someone to disparage my family name. Our reputation has been maintained, untarnished, for centuries and I will not take students who will jeopardize it in any way. "

"Okay." Harry said simply drawing out the 'o'. He was going to learn to dance. How hard could it be?

"You must be here from six until ten at night. I do not tolerate tardiness and if your effort is lacking in _any_ way our association will be ended."

That was a lot of time just to be learning how to dance. He wanted to be more than adequate but he didn't need to be a professional or anything close to it.

Madame Lacroix continued without his agreement to the condition. "You will have to deal with your press issues prior to the Yule Ball. I will not charge you any gold for my time. In compensation, you will take one of my dancers as your date. Furthermore, when you speak to the press at the Ball you will mention me and this academy. Images from the Yule Ball will be allowed to be used in promoting future productions for the period of two years."

Harry mulled that offer over. The worst part was the time commitment. Four hours of practice every night was a lot. Her condition of him being provided a date was actually a selling point. He didn't fancy a jaunt up into Hogwarts to try and ask some random girl. His only female friend he wasn't on good terms with. He could possibly ask one of his quidditch teammates like Katie Bell but he wasn't too happy with anyone in Hogwarts really. His picture authorized for advertising wasn't really a big deal either.

"I think I'll agree... but what do you mean press issue? What would I have to do?"

She looked surprised. "Do you not read any newspapers?"

Harry shook his head back and forth slowly. "No, where I stay and study I'm rather... isolated, it's very private. Other than my owl nobody can reach me."

"You will have to change that." Was her curt reply before she walked out of the room.

Harry watched her make a quick exit without explanation. She hadn't told him to follow so he waited.

She returned after a minute carrying a number of newspapers. She placed them on the desk in front of him. He saw a large wizarding picture of himself at the press conference. Under the heading and just about the other major stories and the main page article.

_ **New York WIzarding Times** _

_ **Chaos at the Triwizard Tournament pg. 2** _

_ **Boy-Who-Lived is Boy-Who-Disappeared Again! pg. 3** _

_ **Tumultuous Tournament Titters To Terrible Trouble pg. 4** _

_ **Recap of the First Task pg. 5** _

_ **Harry Potter & the Yule Ball pg. 9** _

_ **Full Transcript of TWT Champions Q&A pg 14-15.** _

_ **Harry Potter the Boy-Who-Spoke** _

_Barbara Smith_

_Harry Potter, the famous fourth Triwizard Tournament Champion has done it again! He slipped away unnoticed by everyone during the press event that followed the first task. Anarchy and chaos followed upon it being noticed he had vanished from the podium. The Beauxbaton Champion went to follow him, as she was sitting beside him and she was unable to follow him._

_A quick statement from Amelia Bones, the Ministry of Magic's Director of Law Enforcement, revealed the young man was never missing, earlier this year, he was preparing for the task at a place of his own choosing. Director Bones did not reveal any further information other than noting the young man's missing person case was now closed and should never have been filed in the first place. The DMLE director cited their policy of not commenting on the private affairs of its citizens. The international manhunt for the wayward wizard has officially been called off, though with none the wiser as to what has actually occurred._

_A rather raucous press conference followed the ostentatious first task. Before his disappearing act, the youngest champion accused the tournament organizers of making a mockery of this year's tournament! His venomous viewpoint makes a compelling case which the tournament organizers were not able to fully refute. (see pg 2 for further details.)_

_Harry Potter, the fourteen-year-old underaged champion, first pointed out there are four champions, in an event that has never had any other number of champions than three, through its rather illustrious and undeniably infamous history._

_The lack of protection for an artefact that has contrarily bound a minor in a magically binding contract is negligence of the highest order. Two respected law firms, which spoke on the condition on anonymity, speculate the school's actions could be the basis for serious charges that could range as high as a charge of attempted murder against the sole surviving scion of House Potter. The ICW courts would be the battleground of any such lawsuit(s) if legal action was ever filed._

_The revelations did not end just yet! The press learned during the young man's tirade that the first task was supposed to have a used four dragons. The night before the task three dragons died with no officially reported cause yet. The DMLE Director stated the investigation is ongoing. When asked about the other investigation Harry Potter referenced the longtime DMLE employee provided…._

Harry looked up from just the first paper he had looked at. When he heard Madame Lacroix speak.

"See it now?" Harry looked back towards the couple papers and realized they were from different publications. Some were even in foreign languages, though he could read his name and see pictures of his likeness. The one paper had a great shot of his death glare at the tournament organizers. Harry grinned and thought that maybe he should snag it.

"No, not really." He answered honestly.

"You are a completely inaccessible celebrity. The more reclusive you are the more they will hound you and speculate on your life. There have already been multiple articles on who your date will be for the Ball in the various Witch Weekly publications. You must be accessible at least some of the time."

"Okay…"

"Mr Potter, you will need to have at least one interview, more than likely two or three, to clear up most of the major issues. Only since the First Task has there been any sort of positive articles written about you."

Seeing the blank look was still on his face she continued having to spell out the issue.

"You are one of the very few wizarding celebrities and arguably the most famous of all."

Harry looked at her incredulously and immediately made to protest but he didn't get the opportunity.

"Think of your fellow competitor, Viktor Krum. The young man is also internationally famous. His fame has peaked to a new high after his recent World Cup performance. Even then he is not nearly as well known as you."

"But Krum has people fawning all over him at Hogwarts! He has groupies and everything!"

Harry's strong response rolled over her like waves against the shoreline.

"Krum is only famous in the quidditch world. For individuals or countries with no interest in the sport, they wouldn't know his name let alone recognize him. You, on the other hand, your name, your likeness, and your story can probably be repeated by every witch and wizard in Europe. Even the rest of the wizarding societies around the world have at least heard of your name if not the other two as well."

Lacroix was pleased the boy didn't continue to protest like an obstinate teenager. He didn't double down on a lost argument like most fourteen-year-olds would have. From the look on his face, she could see he was mulling the information over. It was a promising sign of his maturity.

"I presume you do not know who Barbara Smith is?" Harry focused back on Madame Lacroix and shook his head.

"She is a top journalist, if not the top reporter, from across the pond. Word is, she volunteered to come to cover this tournament after news of your missing person's case broke out. She's here specifically for you and what she writes will be reported across the Americas."

"Oh… is she just here to get that story or for the whole tournament?" Harry wondered aloud softly.

"I'd have guessed just to investigate and report on your disappearance but with the fallout from the first task I'd wager she's here for more than that now."

It was clear to Harry he was supposed to figure this out for himself. She wanted him to progress her line of thought himself. What would have caused it?

"My parting shots... the death of the dragons? Or.. accusing them of making a mockery of the tournament?"

Seeing her smile, even a very slight one, was nice to see. She did not keep up the stern taskmaster visage at all times. The longer they talked the more personable she was becoming. Almost like she was warming up to him.

"Very good, and yet that is just the obvious inference. Your comments have caused more insidious, unintended, repercussions." She hesitated to continue for just a moment to see if he had understood.

"Let me ask you Mr Potter, who did you outright declare as incompetent with your callous comments?"

Harry's eyebrows bunched together. "The Headmasters, Crouch and Bagman?"

"Are you sure it was just them?" She riposted with an arched eyebrow.

Harry thought who else could have been caught up in his riled remarks. His stomach dropped and his chin tucked towards his chest as his mind connected his statement with the auburn-haired woman he had internally vowed to not cross after interacting with her.

"Director Bones" he whispered out shocked at how careless he'd been. He hadn't meant her at all but he'd blurted out the dragon's deaths even when she'd told them they were not allowed to.

Harry lifted his chin back up and looked back across the desk to the woman still sitting in front of him. He hadn't expected to see the slight puzzlement on her features.

"Yes… I can see how you could reach that conclusion and yet it was not what I had in mind when I asked."

Harry couldn't think past the worry of facing Director Bones again. He'd have to write to her and apologize. Perhaps, it would be better to do it in person. Letters can be misread and he needed to make sure she understood he was solemnly sincere in his apology.

"You were right with who you named. Like many your age you fail to understand they are more than just a person. By accusing Albus Dumbledore of failing to keep you safe you are saying he has failed in his duty as Headmaster of Hogwarts, that the Chief Warlock has failed his responsibility to act in the best interests of one of its citizens, and that the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW cannot provide proper oversight to a prestigious international event. Beginning to see the larger issues you blundered into?"

Harry nodded slowly as he considered her words. It wasn't just the person he was accusing. It was their positions and the organizations they represented. So he'd accused three department heads in the Ministry of Magic, the head of the Wizengamot and ICW, the heads of all three schools and anyone else associated with the running of the tournament of gross incompetence.

"Barty Crouch is very well respected for his time leading the DMLE through the war you ended. He is the head of the Ministry's Department of International Magical Cooperation. Need I continue?"

"No ma'am."

She took pity on the young man. Fourteen-year-olds were not meant to be involved in these kinds of politics.

"Mr Potter, you are young and mistakes are expected. Part of growing up is learning from them and not making the same mistake twice."

It was good advice, he recognized right away. Harry couldn't help his growing fondness of the woman. Even in just this first meeting, she had been helping him. Giving information freely, unlike Dumbledore, when she thought he needed it and challenging him to broaden his horizon. Getting him to work out new angles he would need to remember to consider going forward.

"You are an interesting young man… Did your elf tell you what happened with the Malfoys when they came here?"

Harry shook his head. He was very intrigued. Just the tone of the comment made him think of the twins telling him embarrassing stories of a younger Percy.

"I will tell you and you shan't repeat it. I do not need to make an enemy where one does not exist." She paused until he acknowledged her words. "Let me first explain further about the Lacroix Ballet Academy. We are _the_ school for wizarding children to learn ballet. We put on very small scale productions that cater to the creme de la creme of the magical world. You are competing against Fleur Delacour. What do you know of the Delacour's?"

He grinned at her knowing the question was rhetorical. He answered anyway. "They have a beautiful daughter named Fleur?"

She shook her head in minor mirth and continued on. "They are the kind of patrons that have funded this academy. The wizarding world does not have titled nobility. Many would consider the Delacour family French nobility. Economically and politically they are about as powerful and influential as you can get. They have a long and distinguished family history. They are well respected throughout France and far beyond its borders. They are one of the families that support this academy and they are not the richest or nor most connected out of our benefactors."

"You see, I was surprised by your letter because it _is_ known that we do not teach just anyone. The ballet student openings that come available every year are highly sought after. One manner we give back to our financers is to give them the first opportunity to claim a spot in our academy. Right now, Gabrielle Delacour is one of my top young ballet students, much like Fleur was for a time."

"Some of our benefactors' children have no interest in the fine art of ballet. The second way we provide value to them is that we will privately tutor the heirs in the traditional dances found at events like the Yule Ball. Most wizarding children are taught to dance by their parents and are merely taught to do so passably. It is not vain boasting when I say my former pupils are the best non-professional dancers anytime they are on the dance floor at such events."

Lacroix stopped talking. She slipped out her wand and conjured two glasses. Harry had seen others conjure glasses before but these were chalices. She continued and filled both ornate chalices that bore the crest of the academy on them. She was able to fill them with crystal clear water cold water. She daintily drank some before continuing. Harry carefully attempted to copy her actions.

"This Academy does not have more than one benefactor in each country. First of all, we are not seeking new donations and have had the same supporting families in place for centuries. The Malfoy family wished to become supporters; you see, Narcissa was born a Black and the Black family is the only English family that is a patron. She wished to use that connection to supplant the Black family with the Malfoy family. Our policy has never been to allow more than one family from each country. There is too great a risk of them clashing either economically or politically."

"Regardless, Narcissa Malfoy brought her son to meet me and request the patron's training and naturally a generous contribution was even mentioned." She mused the last part aloud like it was rather amusing to recall.

What did this all mean? She couldn't tutor him because he's not a Black? What was all this building up to?

"Do you know who the heir of the Black family is?"

Harry felt her stare on him as he fidgeted with his glass in nervousness. He debated on whether he should he bring up his godfather or play dumb? It was probably too late for the latter; Lacroix was perceptive and if he didn't know he'd have responded already.

"Sirius Black."

Just because he was boxed into answering the question didn't mean he had to give up all of his information.

"Interesting" she gazed at him with intelligent eyes.

She sipped at her water again. Her eyes never stopped appraising him.

"The Black family does not, currently, have a Head of house. You see, part of the contract for supporting the academy allows me to find out who their legally acknowledged heirs and members of their family are. In England, the power of the Black family, both financial and particularly politically, has waned. The Malfoy's have used Narcissa, the only son or daughter born of House Black that was not incarcerated, to usurp their political power after Arcturus Black died. The sole surviving member of the main line of the family is Sirius and it is well known he was disinherited from the family before he was imprisoned."

She watched him closely to see if he would comment. Harry had no intention to at this time.

"I find your answer interesting because I had to go to Gringotts to find out Sirius was the heir. Something you already knew… I was more intrigued to find out there was one other member of House Black, though they are not eligible for headship. Do you know who it is?"

Harry didn't. He felt his guess was wrong but he made it anyways it seemed the obvious answer. "Draco Malfoy?"

"It is not he." She looked disappointed with his answer. "His mother was a Black but he is only a Malfoy. He could have been if he had been acknowledged as a son of House Black. No other ideas?"

He tried to remember anything that Sirius had told him. Didn't he mention he only had one other family member that he liked? He thought she was disowned but Sirius also thought he was disinherited when he now knew he wasn't. "Would it be his cousin Andromeda?"

Harry knew she knew the answer. Madame Lacroix was taking forever to get there. Why?

"The second member, and only other member of House Black, is Sirius Black's legal heir."

Harry waited, he didn't have any other guesses. Who was Sirius' heir? Did Sirius's cousin have children?

She drew out the moment and watched him before finally answering, "The second member is you."

"Me? You're sure?" he managed to croak out in utter surprise.

"It is, after all, why you are here talking with me today," Madame Lacroix informed him bluntly.

"You see" she continued on "I was surprised to receive your letter. It is well known that we would never consider providing the service you requested, to any member of the public. Once I got over my surprise, I assumed you were a Black somehow and researched how you could be connected to the Black family. I didn't even consider, for a single second, that you were ignorant of this information."

Harry didn't know what to say. It was embarrassing and explained some of her actions much better now. Why she kept watching him so closely. She must have thought he was feigning ignorance the whole time.

"I had to dig into our records here to find how you were blood-related to the Blacks; it took some effort to sort out. It has been many years since a Black has graced these halls. In the end, I found what I was looking for. Dorea Potter was a Black, the sister of Arcturus Black the last head of the family. Arcturus acknowledged his grand-nephew's blood relation, shortly after your birth, making you a member of House Black."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Twenty-five targets from forty paces. Not quite as hard as it was at first. Harry kept firing piercing hex after piercing hex. Every single spell cast with minimal movement and at a rapid rate in total silence. Today was the 7th day of the week, November 28th, and it was another ritual day. it was his eighth ritual overall. The seventh and final one for improvement of his mind.

Dobby had been instrumental for his ritual needs. Most of the items were common wizarding reagents. The crucial part which Dobby played so well, was his ability to purchase everything Harry needed. One of his tasks at the Malfoy home was to keep all their stores fully stocked at all times. He was an expert and Harry no longer needed to advise him on making sure he had the ingredients purchased in time. In fact, the little elf helped remind him to make sure he was making potions and preparing ingredients ahead of time.

Today was his third full week in the Chamber of Secrets and it already felt like it had been far longer. The days, aside from the First Task, were blurring together. He only knew what day of the week it was because of the numerical value of the day. That little ritual journal always had him focusing ahead of time. Harry walked out of his training area towards the study. He would be taking his second meal of the day in there again. He'd taken care of the ritual prior to his magical exercises. The mind rituals always left him a little fuzzy in the head. Monotonously casting piercing hexes took no brain usage. He would now just have to worry that he might actually cast them in his sleep!

He had nobody to chat with, as he ate, so he may as well read. His magical education was moving faster than he thought possible. His confidence was growing along with his magical abilities.

Harry moved into the room and felt a sense of foreboding. There was a predator in the room preparing to strike. A true alpha predator with impregnable scales, unbreakable claws, powerful jaw, and who as black as the night. His study had no natural light and it was a perfect place for the predator to ambush the wizard. Harry quickly cast the three charms the charm he could do without thought. Two cleaning charms, one for him and one for his clothes, and his most oft cast spell. He'd had to cast the bloody charm on everything. Anything he missed charming was inevitably lit on fire.

Harry knew this was coming because he'd kept the little blighter, knew it was about time for her prey to arrive. Harry sat down at his desk and tried to concentrate on his surroundings. The apex predator had always been so sure of itself; it had never developed any kind of evolutionary need for stealth. They were massively powerful creatures that were so well naturally defended stealth wouldn't benefit their defences. Further, their massive size made stealth pretty well impossible. They were the top of their food chain and their ability to fly made them highly mobile predators that used overwhelming force to hunt their prey. Harry heard it before he saw it. Behind him and to the right he heard the scraping of claws on the wooden bookshelf as the beast flew off its perched hiding place.

Harry drew his wand and fire a gust of freezing cold wind towards the apex predator. His spell struck too quickly and had too large of an area of effect for the beast to dodge. It tried to power through, by opening its jaw and releasing a torrent of fire from between its razor-sharp teeth. Harry watched in amusement as the freezing cold air met the fire and the two polar opposites cancelled each other out.

The powerful creature continued on relentlessly. It did not give in at the first sign of potential failure. It dove and dropped its altitude, as quickly as it could, barreling towards its chosen target. Harry watched still in awe with the creature. The black beast broke from its dive and powerful wings slowed its descent. As it reached down with its hind legs, it whirled around the large mammals head. Its strong legs took the impact landing on Harry's right shoulder.

"Ow, you bloody menace." The little dragon had whipped its tail around and struck the back of his neck with it. "You're a Merlin forsaken _Horntail_. Watch where you put that thing!" Harry playfully glared at the actual miniature dragon. Though the tail had caused a brief sharp pain, Harry wasn't actually upset at all, more amused than anything.

It was still surreal that he had a miniature dragon. A real live fire breathing brat. Anytime the little blighter was upset, it breathed fire and tried to burn things. Harry had adapted quickly by putting a flame retardant charm on literally everything. He'd been studying the book he had ordered through Hedwig on basic wards. It would be nice to have a fire suppression ward of some kind active. As of yet, he had found none.

The most convenient thing about having a tamed mini-dragon was free access to dragon blood. It was, after all, how he had realized he had a real live dragon staying with him in the chamber. Once his first counterspell failed Harry had blasted it with a half dozen more before admitting defeat. He'd just learned the part of a dragon's anatomy where it was best to draw blood. There were overlapping scales near where its leg met its body. When the leg was stretched out, in just the right way, there were small gaps between its scales.

He'd cut the little guy in a gap and when the replica dragon dripped blood on to the knife Harry knew something was wrong. Transfigurations of animals did not contain blood. He knew it was not possible and yet it apparently was. Harry had laughed himself silly. Salazar had commented there are no hard and fast rules of magic, just guidelines. Magic is sentient and Harry knew anomalies could happen. For a child that survived the 'unsurvivable' curse and who apparently had no discernable soul under an invisibility cloak, why wouldn't another rule of magic break around him? They say seeing is believing and the day he realized the little dragon was real, he no longer believed that phrase held water.

Harry reached up and strokes his hand, very carefully as he had learned the hard way, along the little dragon's head. The horntail was all black with a bronze sheen to its spikes and horns. "Well good morning to you too, lazybones." He could sense the dragon's irritation being called that. The tiny thing clutched onto his shoulder and his neck when he positioned himself on his chair to accommodate the tiny dragon better.

He felt the magical creature settle down on his shoulder. It was perched and waiting for Dobby. It was only a couple days now but there was already a set routine. The dragon woke for a second breakfast each day. It was too lazy to get up for the first breakfast. It preferred larger less frequent meals. Harry considered if it was more active like he was, if it would eat more regularly. Not that it really made any difference to him. Harry's second meal appeared on his desk, with utensils and a beverage, and with a second plate of raw meat beside it.

Harry enjoyed seeing the little dragon's eating habits. The black dragon swooped off his shoulder, taking to the air, and circled its prey. She hunted her prey, the prey being cut up raw meat… The dragon pulled up, mid-flight, with powerful, albeit tiny, flaps of its wings. Hovering, it spewed forth a deadly stream of dragon fire, deadly to things that didn't have flame freezing charms anyways. The fire seared the meat and the tiny magical creature flew down and began devouring its generous meal.

Harry turned back to his meal. He roved his eyes across the room looking for any sign of new information becoming available. He spied it, a soft blue glue on a book far out of his reach. Harry quickly summoned it directly to his hand and opened it up.

_Duelling strategy, between wizards, has two paths. The first fork is where almost all wizards and witches travel. The second path very few are capable or willing to tread. The prevalent option is where my heirs will begin. This style of duelling consists of casting spells back and forth with attacks consisting of spellcasting. Top duelists are physically fit enough to dodge spells with ease. Often duels are decided by casting speed, power, spell selection, and physical fitness. Trading spells back and forth while dodging any that can be physically avoided._

_The wizard's normal goal is to subdue their opponent. Overwhelming them with offensive assault is the preeminent strategy. What form the assault takes, how you plan to overwhelm your opponent, opens up a whole subset of strategy. Here I am discussing the basic, overarching, form of duelling. You will have already begun the training without being explicitly aware._

_Physical fitness is important to witches and wizards regardless of what any of them believe. The naysayers will rightly point out magic does work to keep our bodies hale and hearty. They are fools who wish for excuses to be sloths, to lack discipline. To keep your body healthy it must use the very magic you rely on for combat. You would not allow a bucket with a hole in it to be used to move water even when doing so will still provide to your needs sufficiently. It is blatantly, and foolishly, wasteful! Take care of your own fitness and you will be wholly better for it. Currently, you are mentally training your work ethic. Physically, you are improving your body and by doing so, reducing the drain on your magic._

_You, my heir, will already be working out physically, each morning, followed up with a magical workout. Each day you are building habits that will make you successful. Do you think Godric became such a feared warrior by feasting, drinking, and whoring? The man is boastful, brash, and far too gregarious! Yet, he has earned the right to be so. He dedicated himself, for countless hours over many years, to become a ferocious fighter. He is the single best duelist I have ever seen._

_Godric is more talented in magic and more powerful than most anyone he encounters. Those two traits only afforded him the opportunity to become the man he is today. It was his sheer dedication to his craft, his single-minded pursuit of becoming the best, that has allowed him to reach the very pinnacle of his art. Even I would dare not fight him in fair and open duelling combat single-handedly. The speed and grace of his movements make his physical prowess unmatched. His attacks are devastating fast and they are bone shattering in strength. When he combines his swordplay with his wand, he is a true terror. His wand and his sword are extensions of his body, perfectly in tune with him, and delightfully destructive to denizens._

_Where Godric has mastered the first path I have done so with the second. The term I prefer is that of a mage. Where I cannot match Godric in duelling, my abilities as a mage surpass him. He can cast with as much speed, power, and precision as he wishes and it will not matter when I conjure my mage shield. His attacks will break like water rolling over rock. Mages use overwhelmingly powerful magic. It is like comparing a lion to a gryphon. Where one is the king of the jungle a gryphon transcends the capabilities of a lion._

_Mages fight on a different plane of magic than that of a duelist. To become a mage is to master magic. There is a very select group that has ever achieved the status and most are known by another term. Most oft mages are called lords, specifically Dark Lords. I must be perfectly precise here: mages are not dark lords. Dark lords are mages. If thou believes the former thou hast become a fool and are not worthy of being my heir. Learn from me, listen to my hard-earned wisdom, and thou will be great. Strong and wise beyond your years._

_The majority of mages do become Dark Lords and there are numerous reasons for it. I shall name but a few. The dedication required to become a mage is unnatural for most wizards and witches. Whom among your peers is willing to dedicate their formative years to mastering magic. Spending unending hours studying theory, practising magic, and pushing themselves beyond what they would normally do. It takes incredible dedication to put in the work necessary to be skilled and knowledgeable enough in magic to become a mage. Sadly one of the greatest drivers is often revenge or for in pursuit of power over others._

_There are further societal factors as well. When one achieves such greatness, jealousy abounds. The commoner cannot handle your prowess and even though they would never be willing to put forth the effort to match you. They turn on you and demand you are controlled and neutered of your hard-earned abilities. Politicians fear you and actively work against you. When you stand up for yourself and fight back they shame you. You're so much greater, why would lord it over us? When one is attacked first, the mage can use but the flick of a finger and end their pathetic lives when angered._

_Society drives mages into becoming dark lords. There exist but a handful of mages that would ever be considered something of a Light Lord. Merlin being the greatest among them. Myself, I have been called a Dark Lord. I do not wish to rule over the rabble, I do not kill without reason, and I am not a power-crazed individual. If I used my capabilities as a mage I could destroy my fellow founders and take control of this school. Instead, I have retired to my chamber. I could have previously orchestrated a coup to take sole possession of this school._

_The four are my friends, I have killed for them, I have loved them, and I will always continue to do both while I draw breath._

Harry broke off his reading as he felt the presence of his dragon burrowing into his lap again. Harry looked down at the horntail in his lap. Anytime he was seated or lying down it was around him wanting to cuddle up on him. It led to the unfortunate unofficial naming of the dragon. Harry kept commenting how much it liked to cuddle. How cuddly she was. How she was a cuddle monster and with all of those vocal comments, somehow, the dragon began acknowledging him when he called it 'cuddles'. He smiled down fondly as the dragon made a low rumbling noise due to his ministrations.

x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long AN this time. Some explanations, reviewer engagement, and update on changing of the length of fic (it's going to be longer! I hope to not have the long ANs very often.
> 
> Well, I've gotten Harry out the chamber again and even included long winded dialogue, tempted as I was to delve out much of the information in other forms. Lacroix is one of the multiple oc's that are introduced. She is the main pairing for the fic (just kidding). The main OC that the story description indicates, along with Harry, Daphne, and Fleur, will be introduced soon enough. Harry will interact with the OC regularly and that means more dialogue and character development incoming.
> 
> I think I need to comment on the fic. This is not an instantly OP Harry story. He will not be running around in god-mode this year. He is a fourteen year old that has been led around by the adults in his life. He's let himself be bullied a lot of his life and done almost nothing about it. He's been out of his previous environment for only three weeks. He won't suddenly have changed his entire character. This Harry is 14 and is not a political mastermind. He will make mistakes and grow as the fic progresses. 14 year olds are not master politicians and great theorists. I've read, and enjoyed, many fics where he is but this isn't one of them. He will grow and mature more quickly than most 14 year olds quickly. Give it time. In cannon he is a broody and led by his emotions. That doesn't change in three weeks where he's been reading and studying magic.
> 
> I also wish to make it clear I am not up front about everything in the story. Harry currently knows things that are hidden from the reader. There is a short scene with the tiny dragon where just a single piece of information is revealed about it. Harry has been redoing the early years of his studies and working towards OWLs. It's not very interesting. Important tidbits, like the two paths, are discussed for now.
> 
> There was another guest review on the money issue from early in the fic. I did not mention how I see Gringotts. I see it more akin to a massive safety deposit box. You pay for their services, they don't give you interest. There is no fiat currency in the wizarding world and I seriously doubt there is a reserve ratio for their deposits set by and audited by the ministry. Mentions of them lending is more likely a separate service and not investing the deposits of their clients in their vaults. It was an author decision to limit Harry's initial cash reserves and income potential. The fic is harry becoming his own person. Inheriting billions takes away from that. This is my final AN comment on the issue.
> 
> My original plan was 3 chapters to be released and then see about finishing the fic. The assumption I had was the target length for the first fic was 100k words or about 10 chapters. After the first 3 chapters I was thinking 12-15 chapters and have it completed. I wanted to just write a short 100k fic but by the time I'd written the first two chapters I'd gotten nowhere so I hoped it could stay between 15-25 chapters. I wanted my first story to be 100k words- just a quick 4th year story that gets me creative writing experience. I have multiple options for endings dependent on the length of story and it will all depend on how the writing goes. Given the pacing slowing with more dialogue, it's going to be a lot longer now.
> 
> The more dialogue the longer the fic will be. I want to keep it fluid and see how things develop. I'm 5 chapters in, and around 50k words, and two of the characters aren't even in the fic. Daphne isn't really in the fic until next calendar year. I can probably find a way to work in a cameo, like I did with Fleur in 2nd chapter, at the Yule Ball. Fleur's wasn't necessary I just wanted to introduce the magical anomaly early and Fleur could do it.
> 
> I'd like to comment on filler and my comment on shopping montage. I've read a ton of OP harry stories and I like them. I've read tons of detailed shopping trips, of heavy character bashing, and stories of goblins being incredibly helpful - to name just a few of the many HPFF tropes. I'm not interested in writing out those kinds of things. It doesn't capture my attention- to concept out and then even fathom to write. Others will write them and I'll enjoy reading them. If I make comments I'm not bashing fics that do it at all; it's just not interesting, to me, to detail out things like magical trunks and new clothes. Some authors do, they write thousands of words out detailing single items like a trunk or wand. That's just not me. Any comments are tongue-in-cheek.
> 
> Thanks again all! On to ch 6. No progress will be made by me for 3 days. Update when I'm able.


	6. Un Deux Trois

"Un deux trois, un deux trois, un deux trois. Non non non! Non! Un! deux! trois! Again!"

Over three hours into his first dance lesson and whatever impressions he'd previously held about his new dance instructor were utterly wrong. It was very clear who she was now and what was her real purpose in life. It was all so very clear now. Only one possible explanation: she was a demon, a demon on a special mission from the Devil himself! She was sent to torture the poor souls she came in contact with under the guise of dance lessons.

Harry stepped forward with his left foot.

"Un"

His right foot moved forward, to the side, and up into the proper position to the side of his left foot.

"Deux"

His weight shifted, from his left foot to his right, allowing his left foot to slide across beside his right.

"Trois"

Harry repeated the earlier action but opposite. Right foot drops back.

"Un"

Left foot slides down, across, down.

"Deux"

With his left foot planted, his body weight pivots onto it and his right foot moves into place beside his left.

"Trois"

The same sequence which was starting again, of what Harry was told, is that this box step was the basis for the waltz he would have to perform at the Yule Ball.

"Un"

She's not even letting him practice with a partner.

"Deux"

He's stepping in a clockwise box motion over and over and over and over and over and over… and over….

"Trois"

His right foot stepped back again.

"Un"

Harry completed the now familiar movement.

"Deux"

His muscles were killing him.

"Trois"

She'd cast spells to perfect his posture.

"Un"

His spine forced in the correct alignment.

"Deux"

His chest out.

"Trois"

His arms in position.

"Un"

His neck protruded.

"Deux"

His hips moving in the correct way.

"Trois"

He was going to murder someone if he heard that two lettered french number again!

"Un"

Someone or something was going to bear the brunt of this.

"Deux"

Snape targets for his piercing hexes tomorrow sounded great.

"Trois"

Malfoy mixed in with Snape?

"Un"

Piercing hexes may not be satisfactory enough.

"Deux"

The thought of a reducto to their faces widened his smile.

"Trois"

Confringo would be good to mix in, he mused.

"Fin"

Madame Lacroix used her wand to dispel her family's specialized spells she'd cast on the young man. They had crafted unique magic to assist with their chosen trade. It was part of the reason their academy was the best in the wizarding world. Ballet, as with most art forms, wasn't prominent amongst wizarding culture. Muggles were capable of it and the Lacroix Ballet Academy was the only one creating productions in the wizarding world.

They did not have the large personnel that a true production company would. Lacroix's son was the choreographer for Ballet National de Marseille, a company that operated in the muggle world. The Statue of Secrecy was in full effect for the wizards and witches that worked for the internationally acclaimed dance company, though that didn't stop the company from gaining many of her top students.

Magic helped protect from injuries, it helped with keeping one healthy, provided endurance and helped make exceptional dancers. The top pupils from the Lacroix Ballet Academy went on to star for the most renowned muggle programs around the world over the many decades it had been in operation.

"Complete your cooldown exercises then meet me in my office," Lacroix informed her newest pupil.

Harry had quickly understood the style of teacher she was. She gave commands and you listened. There was no time for fooling around and goofing off. Dance was as serious as it gets for her. Give your best effort, pay attention and learn quickly from your mistakes.

Completing the dynamic stretches didn't take long and a quick spell to cleanse any sweat or smell and he was on his way to her office again. He'd quickly become familiar with the studio, taking the floo nightly and learning for four gruelling hours.

Harry entered the office and sat in the chair that was becoming familiar. Madame Lacroix was a stern taskmaster during their lesson time. Afterwards, she would request him to come and talk with her. The topics varied and Harry felt she was continuing to try and make him see the larger world around him. She wasn't a powerful politician, she wasn't a business titan and yet she had traversed and rubbed shoulder with those who were. She had to be careful not to offend the wrong people, to cultivate positive publicity and balance expectations of heirs that had always been taught they were the best. She had to navigate treacherous waters where families that were affiliated with the academy were not always on the best of terms.

What she saw in Harry or what her motivations for her actions were unclear to the young man.

"Harry, next week when you come, you will begin to dance with a partner." She waited to see if he would comment. "Your progress won't continue at the pace we need it to, otherwise."

Harry nodded in understanding and drank deeply from the chalice he had come to expect to be waiting for him with cold clean water.

"How are your plans to talk with the media coming along?"

Harry tried to hide the grimace his body wanted to react with and wasn't quite successful.

She sighed knowingly.

"I realized that I need to speak with Director Bones first. She told us not to say anything about the investigation into the three dragon's deaths and I kind of blurted it out," Harry was still embarrassed his emotions got the better of him in front of everyone. He was resolved to do better, to be better.

She waited to see if he would add more.

"I sent her a letter and will hopefully have a response when I return tonight or tomorrow. I've asked to meet her in person to apologize and see if there is anything else I cannot publicly talk about." Harry looked at her wondering if the plan for his first step would be enough to sate her for now.

She took a slow drink of her water. Harry suspected she did this deliberately to try and unbalance him. To let the silence unsettle him or make him try and fill the silence by talking. If her motivations were to educate him, it was working. He was getting used to it.

"It is a start, do you have your next set of actions planned? Or any further thoughts on how you will proceed?"

"Nothing concrete. I, uh, kind of uh, hoped, you'd be willing to advise me on what I had planned?"

She gestured for him to continue.

"I thought contacting the American would be a good start," Lacroix did not change her expression with the revelation so Harry continued with his reasoning. "Her articles seemed to be fair and balanced. She seemed more factual and you said she was sent her to cover me. Talking to her and trying to cultivate a good relationship with a candid first interview."

Harry waited to see what she advised. It seemed like a good idea to him...

"And if your first article goes well and she requests follow up exclusives?" She asked still without a discernible opinion on the matter.

"If it went really well, I'd do more as you wanted me to?"

Harry felt like he'd made a mistake from the change in posture she was now displaying. It was rather minor but he was trying to learn how to read people better.

"Don't you think that may upset your home countries press? What about that of other European origins as well? You expect it will be fine that an overseas journalist gets the first ever one on one sit down with the Boy-Who-Lived and then further follow up articles?"

She picked up the boy before he could get down on himself. He should have parents teaching him these lessons and managing his affairs. She hadn't ferreted it out of him who was teaching him magic, now that he'd left Hogwarts. The subtle silent charms he did at his age were proof enough he was getting a good magical education of some sorts. He was two years ahead in that aspect.

"Harry, you are learning and it is okay to make mistakes. Your first plan is not always going to work; you are already quite wise for your age. I made it a condition that you need to fix your press issue. Instead of rushing out and doing interviews you are planning and running those plans by someone with far more experience than you.."

Harry's countenance rose as he heeded her words.

"You already plan to make a wonderful first step: talking to the director of law enforcement in-person shows your character. You could have ignored it or sent off a letter. Rather, you are going to do it in person, which she will take far better. Now you are here asking my opinion to help you refine your plans. So let's do that: think now, given my advice what should you consider doing?"

Harry did as she asked. Using foreign press as his main contact in his first-ever interview had the possibility to cause some problems. Alienating the publications that were more likely to cover him the most in the future wasn't a bright idea. He should try for the opposite instead.

"I should try and build a good relationship with the Daily Prophet first and do follow up interviews with foreign press?"

She smiled at him. "That seems to be a better idea though I cannot give you any kind of definitive answer, I run a ballet academy. I, myself, have a number of press agents, whose job it is to cover my productions, whom I regularly deal with and maintain good relations with. I allow them to ask questions or clarify rumours. You could look into getting an agent that would advise you better and would work with the press on your behalf."

Harry listened attentively trying to soak in any knowledge and experience she was willing to impart. Another idea struck as his thoughts stayed on the problem.

"I think I should ask Director Bones! She would have a lot of press experience with the local newspapers. She'd have to know which reporters were honest!" Harry was excited that he might have the makings of a good plan. Though it did hinge on him having help from someone he had only met once. A woman who could be rather upset with him.

"It may be a good course of action."

Harry focused back on her completely. "Maybe?" He asked wanting to understand why she didn't think it was a good idea.

"Yes, it may be." She took another sip of water from the chalice in her right hand.

Harry wondered why it just might be. Was it the job or working in law enforcement that could make her a bad person to ask? Wouldn't that help her be a good judge of character? Was there something political that he was unaware of?

Lacroix had finished and saw the young man was doing exactly what she wanted. He was thinking and analyzing. So many his age waited for answers, waited to be told, and so rarely learned to think for themselves. Developing the ability to critically think would help him now and in the future.

"This does not apply specifically to just Director Bones. I said 'maybe' because you need to do your best to be aware of people's motivations when they are helping you. You are a celebrity of the highest order in the wizarding world. People will try and take advantage of you, they will try to use you, and they will try and manipulate you."

She was pleased to see Harry continued to listen and learn all that she had been imparting to the bright young man.

"I'm sorry to tell you that you will have very few true friends. Even amongst your real friends, they will still use your fame to their advantages, whether they actually mean to or not."

Lacroix could see him processing that and probably applying it to his current group of friends.

"It is okay to have people around you that are using you, it doesn't make them evil nor does it make them a bad person. What it does is, make them human. Humans typically act in their own best interests, it's a biological imperative. You should be cognizant of those around you and what motives they have for their actions. If you understand why they are acting as they are, you can work it to your advantage. Be careful, don't trust blindly, put the work in to understand others actions."

She could see the night was over now. She'd given him something to chew on for some time. She related her advice to his earlier idea.

"Before you ask Director Bones, you can read previous articles by the reporters from the Daily Prophet and form an opinion of your own to evaluate her response."

x-x-x-x-x-x

_Intent, will power, and creativity are interesting to study. You've already had the lesson on belief and I will not repeat it. Three of the four aspects of magic are all controlled by yourself. Magical power on the other hand, though it can be enhanced, is something you are born with. Some are blessed to be powerful and others are not so fortunate._

_The majority of your ability comes from within your mind. There has long been a misconception in what makes a powerful wizard. Most of the 'most powerful wizards' are actually the 'most precise wizards'. They are able to exercise a level of control over their inert magical power that is beyond what most wizards or witches expect and achieve. Casting technically difficult spells makes them seem powerful. When two wizards that are equally matched, their precision with their own magic, power becomes the determining factor between them._

_Control over your magic, your ability to intend it, to creatively shape it, and to have it follow your direct will is far more important than power. The mind is a wizard's most potent weapon and it must always be protected. The first of the seven ritual sets was not chosen for convenience; the mind was targeted first because it must be. To do any different would be folly and lead to the ruin of your potential._

_I thirsted for power and strove for it first. I undertook the most impactful power rituals that I could find and work into a set. They would harness my magical potential to great new heights! Such is the nature of youth. To believe oneself so wise because one has great knowledge. Knowledge requires the tempering of experience and wisdom that oft comes with advanced age._

_It did not seem to be such a colossal mistake. My power did increase! Yet, my control diminished every time it grew. By the completion of the ritual set, my ability to wield magic was frayed. Had I continued, trying for a second power ritual set, I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, my magic would have killed me. I had to spirit myself away from all contact. I had to relearn how to wield my magic._

_Prior to the rituals, I was like an expert swordsman; I was a finely tuned master whose sword was like an extension of my arm. It felt natural after the years of training I had gone through to forge me into a powerful weapon. Yet I destroyed it all with increasing my magical power so drastically._

_It was as if with every ritual I completed, the weight of my sword grew. At first, it was just cumbersome yet still manageable to wield. By the end, it was as if my one-handed sword had become so great and so unruly, that it was now a two-handed greatsword. I kept trying to wield it with a single hand and utterly failed. No precision, no coordination, no balance. Even the tactics would have to change. The control over my magic was decimated._

_My heirs will not be plagued by such a foolish course of action. Your mind has been grounded, enhanced, and strengthened first and foremost. The next sets are focused on your ability to rejuvenate your body and your magic. Think of rejuvenation as the support base for the added strength and power you will eventually gain. It is better to overbuild the foundation than to risk having one crack and break apart under pressure._

Studying rituals had so far been annoyingly unspecific. He knew the generalities of what he was doing without knowing any concrete details. His first set of rituals was complete but what exactly had they done? It was one area he wished he could change and not the only one.

There were many aspects of the new dance instructions that Harry wished different. The most glaring issue was the time commitment. Harry woke up early and trained hour after hour each day. Following his supper time was the part of the day where Harry could pursue what he wanted. He'd given that up for dance lessons, of all things. There was merit to them and he knew he had lucked into a rather fortunate opportunity. They may even help with his balance and coordination of movement which may assist in his duelling abilities.

Now that Harry wasn't being so thick-headed, he saw that he could have just gone to the muggle world for another solution, the world he actually knew and understood. The muggle world has a phone book and he could've easily called through the directory to any local dance studio and asked if they had group or private lessons on ballroom dancing. He could've gotten the bare necessities and then ventured up into Hogwarts and just start asking any random girl for a date until one accepted. It was a single evening event. A few quick dance lessons and a girl for his arm and he could have coasted through the night.

There would have been annoying questions about his relationship with whomever he took but what would that really matter? The event was just an elaborate waste of time. Those were his prevalent thoughts on the matter until he started his short discussions with Lacroix. The event was far more than just a simple evening of dinner and dancing. She had expertise in areas beyond just the technical skill of various forms of dance. She had loads of experience revealing information to the press and how to conduct good interviews. She had given him ideas and tips on how to handle them better in one of their chats after a dance lesson.

They also had a chat on the importance of public image. Harry was going to be put on display there and he had a real opportunity to set the greater public's perception of him. Those who had frequently interacted with him at Hogwarts already had conceived perspectives on him. However, the greater public, which the press was reporting to, had very sparse or even legitimate information to base any opinion of him on. Between now and the ball, he could begin to establish who he was to the masses and solidify it with the Yule Ball.

How well he danced, who he was dancing with, his table manners, how he presented himself, whether he was sociable or not, and so much more all mattered. Small details like what his clothing was made of could be used to discredit him. It was important how he presented himself at this event because he would be on display in front of the press the entire evening. There would be some form of interviews at the event and a whole series of articles on the ball. There was no chance the press wouldn't be at this event when the next scheduled one wasn't until late February.

The topics he wanted to investigate were not being worked on due to his lack of time. Even worse, he was adding to them. After figuring out just what the sleeping creature in his lap was, he had to find out what had even happened! How did a model dragon gets turned into an actual tiny fire-breathing dragon? He wanted to know if it was his ritual which had killed the dragons. He needed to understand why he was in so much pain when the instructions hadn't mentioned anything about it.

In contrast, the ritual coming up, on physical rejuvenation, did specify he would experience discomfort and even low to moderate levels of physical pain. Harry first thought Salazar might've been some kind of closet sadist who enjoyed the thought of others in pain… Now he doubted it. He wanted to sneak into the Hogwarts library and see if he could find any information on rituals. If there were accounts of others who had done the Dragon Power ritual and how it went.

Further, Harry wanted to know how or if any of the rituals had changed him. He already knew that all of his physical exercising and dietary changes were indeed having an effect. Dobby had to modify the clothes again, as they were becoming a little too tight. When he looked at himself after showering he could tell he had put on some muscle. He was less slight and scrawny looking. He was by no means bulky or muscular.

The Dragon Power ritual was always on his mind. Being in the fabled Chamber of Secrets also had him thinking more about Parseltongue. So far, he hadn't learned anything about it. He had assumed, in apparent error, that the trait for which the founder was famous for would've been a major focus. It hadn't even been mentioned yet! If he could sneak up to the library, it could be another great topic to study.

Harry continued to run his hand from the head of the cuddly dragon down its body. Never up the body! Patting along its spikes was well and good, never against the spikes. How such a creature could enjoy being pet was just plain ludicrous. It had spikes on its body for goodness sake! It was the epitome of everything a predator could want to be! The little gal's favourite way to spend time was sleeping on Harry while he pet her. The dragon seemed to have a very strong belief that it took only one hand to turn the pages of the books, only one hand to write out notes and only one hand to practice wand movements. At all times while he was studying, in this room, he could and should be petting the dragon.

He'd learned quickly that trying to ignore the little beast was fraught with terrible tribulations. The gremlin could cause untold havoc! It had figured out quickly that the charms protecting against its dragon fire could be overcome. The flame freezing charm was designed to stop mundane fire, not magical fire. Probably due to the small size of the dragon, it could stop a small burst of her dragon fire. A single fireball from Cuddles was fine. Spewing a torrent of continuous fire quickly destroyed or lit on fire the object that caught the dragon's ire.

The Hungarian Horntail made the consequences of Harry's actions clear. Fail to allow her to burrow into a comfortable position and to cuddle on him and she'd burn things. Studying without petting her? That's a burning! Yet the items burned were, so far, never truly important or irreplaceable. Burning a letter he had written, some notes he'd made, his food, clothes and so forth, all items which were of minimal importance. He hoped that was not just a coincidence. If it wasn't happenstance, how intelligent was this dragon? It seemed to be able to recognize what was and was not acceptable fuel for its pyromancy tantrums.

Harry glanced at one of the items that could easily become ash in short order. He smiled at the thought of the little dragon's antics and kept running his hand absently along the length of the horntail. He read it again just to make sure he had time for tonight's rendezvous.

_Mr Potter,_

_Meeting at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, in the very centre of the Ministry of Magic, would be inadvisable at this time. You indicated any time on the weekend would work for yourself. I would rather invite you to my home on Sunday, November 29th. A 7 pm visit for tea would be best, after my usual mealtime. Two of my staff member will be in attendance. The floo address is 'Amelia's Getaway' and will be open to public floo connection from 6:55 pm until 7:00 pm._

_Director Amelia Bones_

_Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

_Ministry of Magic_

x-x-x-x-x-x

The few hours of studying, eating and practising magic flew by. Harry had toiled longer than normal just to keep himself from worrying over the meeting. He felt it was probably a good sign that they were going to meet at her home. It implied trust. That or she needed him somewhere discreet so she could dispose of him… Two willing alibis even. Nobody would suspect he would be there. Maybe an illegal veritaserum questioning…

Harry put out those kinds of negative thoughts. He would conduct himself better, he would create a friend and ally, and he would be proud of himself for how well he handled the situation this evening. He was the pupil of the legendary Salazar Slytherin and he was going to be a strong and independent man.

Harry had trekked out of the castle by his usual route and made his way to the Shrieking Shack. From there it was a short walk to the Three Broomsticks and he was on his way. He was getting quite accomplished at using the floo. No more tripping and he wasn't so young and nervous he mispronounced names. He was hoping Salazar had some instructions on apparition and portkey creation soon. He knew Hogwarts library didn't have any and he hadn't seen any in the restricted section.

Harry arrived in a room that had logs for walls. The ceiling wasn't all that tall and he'd come out of a large fireplace. He stepped further into the room and blinked a few times to make sure he was where he thought he should be. He hadn't mispronounced the name, he knew that much. He was inside a log cabin that had a large wood-burning fireplace. The floors were of some kind of hardwood and it looked like the furniture was all made by hand. It looked rather well put together and well crafted. It wasn't the uniform, assembly line, kind of chairs and tables that he was used to seeing in the muggle world.

"Mr Potter, glad you can make it."

Harry had been caught staring at the room. She had come up from behind him, though he had not startled.

"Director Bones, thank you for having me to your home." Harry turned and spoke back in greeting.

"Please come have some tea with us." Harry noticed she was less stiff already than when he'd met with her previously. He might have even seen a small smile. Could the tea contain veritaserum?

Harry followed her and found it was a rather cosy home. The fireplace gave it a warm ambience, though it lacked the pervasive and distinct wood-burning smoky smell. Probably due to some form of magic, and it allowed for a wonderful earthy freshness to the air. Harry imagined this is what it would smell like if he ever went off camping and stayed in a remote log cabin. Harry noted some wizarding photos adorning the walls as he followed out of the room he flooed in from, through a hallway and into a comfortable looking sitting room.

Inside the room were two leather armchairs which appeared to be deep and comfortable to sit in. Between the two was a small table with two teacups already on it. The further chair was occupied by a man he thought he recalled seeing at the First Task. The man looked like the kind of person you'd want working for the DMLE. Tawny hair tousled in a thick mane around a fierce faced man.

Beside him was a lady that looked like she could be either twenty-five or forty-five. How that was possible he wasn't really sure. She had light brown hair that dropped down behind her head, how far, he couldn't tell from where he was standing. She had intelligent grey-blue eyes and she took him while giving him a smile. The woman was sitting on a loveseat leaving the couch unoccupied; the couch which sat directly across from the two chairs. The seating in the room was set up in an u shape with the love seat between the two sides. There was a low table in the middle that had an empty teacup and a kettle of tea.

Before moving into the room and sitting, the Director Bones introduced Harry to her other two guests.

"Mr Potter, this Rufus Scrimgeour," she said gesturing to the man in the chair. "He is the Head Auror for the DMLE." She turned her attention to the woman next. "And this is Stacy Parent, our top investigator within the DMLE."

Harry could feel his heart rate rise with proper introductions for just whom she had invited along this evening. There seemed very little chance of coincidence. For a fleeting moment, he worried that they knew about his dragon ritual. Instead of letting fear overtake him, he steeled himself and approached the man first.

"Nice to meet you Head Auror Scrimgeour." He said confidently as he held out his hand for the man to shake. The man reciprocated.

"You as well, Mr Potter," he said gruffly sitting back down after standing to greet Harry.

Director Bones went past him to sit in the second armchair and Harry made his way around the low table to greet Stacy Parent. "Nice to meet you as well, Investigator Parent."

"You as well, Mr Potter." She smiled, kindly, at him again as they shook hands. He stepped past her and sat on the couch on the side closest to Stacy.

"Tea?" Amelia asked looking at him.

"Yes please."

Harry watched as she casually moved her wand and the tea kettle came to life, lifting off the table, perfectly pouring the tea before setting itself back down gently. She used her wand again to float the cup and saucer to just in front of him and set on the table. Milk and sugar soon followed the teacup for his use. Harry quickly made his tea to his satisfaction and sat back, properly, into the couch.

"Mr Potter are you okay if we speak more informally seeing as we are in one of my homes?" The director asked to start things off.

"That is fine with me."

"Good, Harry, you have my permission to call me Amelia tonight and you may do likewise with Rufus and Stacy." Harry glanced at them seeing their nods of approval.

"You asked for the meeting, Harry, is there anything you'd like to discuss first?" Harry noted that while this meeting was to be considered informal, with the use of first names and the setting, all three DMLE personnel were not exhibiting prominent informal body posture, even if Bones wasn't nearly as stiff looking as she was when he first met her.

He'd noticed a tenseness in Rufus's posture and though Stacy was smiling at him, it felt fake. It was just a gut feeling but he would be careful. He didn't know what their agenda was here tonight.

"Yes, I had one thing I wanted to do first and I believed you're busy enough that I would need an appointment to see you. I wanted to apologize directly to you." Harry smirked inwardly seeing the three be caught off guard by the request, not figuring out that this was what he might have wanted, ahead of time. He still wanted to get it over with quickly.

"You advised us in the tent about the death of the three dragons; you told us we were to keep the information to ourselves until you allowed it to be released. I was quite upset with the press question mentioning my parents and revealed it anyways." He made sure to make eye contact with Amelia before the next part of his apology.

"I apologize for not following your directions and I will do better if there is a repeat of similar circumstances in the future." Harry genuinely meant the apology. He didn't have to fake being contrite.

The two adults were looking at Amelia Bones, just as Harry was. Her lips moved to respond but stopped before she spoke. She scrutinized the young man before breaking her short silence. "Thank you, Harry, it was rather... mature of you to do so in person."

Harry wondered if it was possible to admire someone for the way they conducted themselves any more than he just did with Amelia. It shouldn't be possible to admire someone that was getting a bit of a surprising apology. She just had such a presence about her. He'd seen McGonagall operate for years. The Transfiguration Mistress had a presence, as well, yet it felt so different.

Amelia Bones' aura was a mixture of multiple effects. Her very demeanour demanded respect, it was clear she wouldn't tolerate incompetence and it would be perilous to cross her. Yet she was still approachable and someone you would want to turn to if you had a problem, especially here in her home. As if she still had time for the smallest of issues, even if she held such an important position.

Stacy filled in the silence that had lingered briefly pulling Harry away from his thoughts on the auburn-haired witch.

"Would you mind if we asked some questions or do you have any questions for any of us?" Harry had seen detective shows on the television from time to time and wondered if this was a wizarding version of good cop, bad cop. There was the fierce-looking man with a perpetual scowl on his face and the smiling younger woman that seemed personable and easy-going.

"Well, I kind of had a couple questions to ask first if you don't mind. I hadn't originally expected that I'd be meeting with so many people but that could work out better." He smiled back at her.

If this was going to be another informal questioning, he at least wanted to get his answers done first.

"Sure, Harry, what were you hoping to ask Amelia?" Stacy responded, leaning forward

"Well, there are three questions I was hoping to ask. I'll just ask them all at once?" He asked looking between Stacy, Amelia and Rufus.

"That sounds like a good idea Harry," Stacy said as if she really did think it was a good idea.

"Okay, well, first off, I was curious if it was possible to find out if you are investigating the tournament. Specifically how I was entered into the tournament and how someone could have sabotaged the first task."

Harry could see Scrimgeour looking dourer than he already was, Bones hadn't even reacted. Stacy was looking sympathetic and nodded along, he thought she was mentally cataloguing his words.

"Secondly, I was wondering if any of you had insight into the reporters at the Daily Prophet. A uh…"

Harry struggled with the right word. What was Lacroix to him? Potential ally, a friend, a mentor, a business associate?

"...good acquaintance thought Director Bones might be someone that could be able to point me in the direction of a good reporter to do an interview with. One that will be honest and allow for some editorial control."

Harry noticed how keenly Bones was watching him. Her eyes narrow when he paused trying to determine how to describe Madame Lacroix and she looked pensive after he did. Harry didn't catch the reaction of Stacy. Scrimgeour was scowling, though it was easy to tell he was paying close attention to Harry.

"The third and final question I wanted to ask about was if Amelia knows if the action of not taking up Headship of the Potter family by my father during the last war was considered normal, prudent or possibly foolish. I was hoping for insight from someone that was around and an active participant in the war before the vanquishing of Voldemort."

Harry caught the shudder and grimace from Stacy and Rufus when he said You-Know-Who's name. This was the Head Auror and Lead Investigator and they were wincing at his casual usage of the man's made up name! How were they in positions of leadership if they couldn't even be around him saying Voldemort. He looked at them in disgust.

Bones sighed and pinched her nose. She could see the gears turning in the young man's head. The thought was admirable and showed the boy's Gryffindor courage and nobility. It was much the same with her little Susie except she put a stop that line of thought a long time ago. She'd have to do the same now. Dumbledore was many things and she was now seriously doubting a good magical guardian was one of them.

"Harry, we don't usually say his name for a reason. In the war, it was jinxed and our intelligence says they had a list of anyone that said his name. Anyone who dared to speak it publicly normally turned up dead in very short order. Their deaths were always excruciating and the person's family was made an example of. We don't say his name not out of fear of the man but out of a prudent habit. Not every Death Eater was caught and put away. While there haven't been any recent deaths associated with saying the name, for the first year after the war, those who dared to speak his name still turned up dead."

Harry nodded slowly taking it in. Dumbledore had always said it and encouraged him to. What did it matter if he was targeted? Few would dare to cross wands with him. Harry was already at the top of Voldemort's hit list so there was little point in correcting it.

"Should we just call him Tom then or do you normally call him Riddle?"

"Why would we do that Harry?" Stacy asked quickly. She was still upbeat even in confusion Harry noticed.

"Because his name is Tom Riddle?" Harry asked like it was rather obvious.

Scrimgeour spoke up quickly his voice deep and accusing. "How would you know that? Nobody knows his origins and many have investigated it with no luck."

Harry looked between them flabbergasted that nobody knew who Lord Voldemort really was. How could they not know? Didn't anyone attend Hogwarts with him? Dumbledore knew. Did no one else?

Harry looked directly at Amelia. "Permission to pull my wand and cast a spell?" Harry thought about revealing what he knew from his time in the Chamber but he didn't want to even consider mentioning it at all. It was his sanctuary now and the last thing he needed was the DMLE wanting to raid it.

"Permission granted." She replied quickly.

Harry was amused to note all three watched his wand carefully as he cast the same flame writing spell the memory of Tom Riddle had. He slowly spelt out the name of 'I am Lord Voldemort' then rearranged them into 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'.

"I think he came up with the name while he was still a student at Hogwarts, at least, that's what Dumbledore said… he seemed to know all about his history. He even mentioned, to me, that he was Head Boy..." This last bit of information was a calculated move directed at Dumbledore. Everyone assumed they had a close relationship and they all knew Dumbledore was previously his magical guardian. Instead of having the DMLE looking into how he might have come across the info, they would now focus on why Albus Dumbledore knew and more importantly, withheld the knowledge. In light of that, what else could he be hiding?

Dumbledore would never reveal the real story of the Chamber of Secrets because, during his tenure as Headmaster, an ancient basilisk was released into the school and could have wiped out an entire generation of students. Furthermore, he knew the Chamber was real, from fifty years ago, and didn't let the DMLE know. There was also the beautiful benefit of the Headmaster being tied up fending off their investigations. Hopefully, it would distract him away from gaining control of Harry again. He wanted it to provide a smokescreen until his movements to become emancipated were irrevocable.

Harry had thought about trying to ask about Sirius Black and his lack of trial. He didn't trust them enough for that yet. He'd have to admit that he had aided Sirius's escape from the Minister of Magic. He didn't know almost anything about the laws in the magical world but if it was like the muggle world it could be rather ugly for him. Lacroix had mentioned he should look into getting legal representation and he really should… It was probably the best avenue to clear Sirius's name.

Bones cleared her throat bringing everyone's attention back to her.

"As interesting as that knowledge is, and you can rest assured we will look into it," she added a significant look at her two colleagues. "I can assist with your questions."

"Your last question is somewhat complicated to answer. James Potter, like many heirs at the time, did not take full control of the family due to inheritance law."

Harry's blatant confusion showed as she continued.

"If the Head of a family sires any children that are not acknowledged they have the right to inherit if the family would otherwise be extinct. In the war there were all manners of perversions that were inflicted on those that were captured or kidnapped, there was a real worry that James Potter could have been captured and potioned into unwillingly fathering another child. Killing him and the rest of your family would have turned over anything inheritable to the unacknowledged child."

She held up her hand to stop any comment until she completed her explanation. Surprisingly to Harry, it was Rufus that continued on with his low register growling, with very limited body language shared between them. For them to communicate so seamlessly, it hinted at a very strong working relationship.

"Blood feuds and the extinctions of families occurred throughout wizarding history. The past couple centuries have been some of the most peaceful, in regards to blood feuds between families and clans. There is a whole series of laws that were designed to end major blood feuds and then amendments to them over the years."

Harry remembered reading about blood feuds in Salazar's memoirs and he had wondered why he hadn't even really heard the term in the modern wizarding world. The Head Auror continued on with his explanation.

"One such limitation is that no unacknowledged progeny can be involved in the deaths. They must swear it on their magic to inherit the family. It is possible that magic itself would not allow them to inherit if they were raised solely to go against the family's ideals. Regardless, the law was put in place by the Wizengamot to try and protect the sanctity of marriage. They did not want Heads of houses to be conceiving several unacknowledged children. Inheritance disputes were often the cause for the extinction of wizarding families."

There was too much information to properly order his thoughts on it. He now knew that James Potter had taken prudent actions to protect his family legacy. His family was targeted and both he and his wife actively resisting Riddle. His father was taking a step to ensure his family legacy was not stolen. It still seemed odd but he would accept it for now.

Seeing Harry had understood and was focused on the conversation again Amelia asked Stacy to take the first question.

"There has been considerable pressure on the DMLE to find out how there are four participants. The DMLE was, finally, given access to the Goblet. Unfortunately, even the residual magic has long since been obfuscated by the highly magical artefact. The chain of custody is highly compromised and, honestly, I don't expect it to lead to the perpetrator."

Harry could hear the frustration bleeding out of her. It really bothered her that she wouldn't be able to solve it. That was good.

"The dragon's, though, we believe, that they were either an incredibly well-done act of sabotage or the accident they appear to be."

Harry blinked trying to properly look interested, not too interested mind you, and surprised by the revelation. As far as they were concerned he had no knowledge of the dragons before it was announced the morning of the first task.

"Dragon's aren't transported long distances, regularly, because they are required to be sedated during transport. Moving the nests of mother dragons is just not done, and for good reason!" She paused and sipped her tea as if she was washing away the unpleasant memory.

"The stress of their eggs being removed and threatened from their original nesting grounds already wreaked havoc on their systems. The handlers attested that their sleep cycles and eating habits were beyond erratic. Some hadn't eaten for days. They were temperamental and on edge at all times. Normally two bouts of stunners would take them down. Due to the adrenaline flowing, they were having to use three and sometimes four volleys of stunners.

Stacy looked significantly to her boss who gave the briefest of nods before she started telling anything further. "The sleep draughts doses were well beyond the standard doses because they were already so agitated. The dragon handlers had argued to allow their normal sleep schedule but were overruled. There is an ongoing investigation into who, from the ministry, ordered the dragons to be sedated. The excessive doses put them to sleep... permanently. It shut down their heart rate far further than was necessary. That's not even the worst of it..."

Harry sat transfixed to the spot hoping Stacy would continue. He had slid forward on his seat, ever so slightly, and was unconsciously leaning forwards as he gripped his teacup rather strongly.

Stacy did continue on. "What is even more damning is the pheromones found on site. They are used to enrage dragons. The pheromones make the dragon believe their nest is threatened by another and threatened mother dragons… " She didn't need to continue on anyone who had seen even the docile Common Welsh Green could see how ferocious and dangerous they were.

"We believe, based on the amount found, the intent was only to make the first task more lively, more entertaining for the audience, and not for attempted murder."

Once Investigator Parent finished talking, Harry looked between the three and saw the same stoicism. There was no exaggeration or anything. These were just the facts of the investigation.

"The report will be released publicly tomorrow. You won't need to worry about not saying anything this time." Amelia gave him a mock glare.

Harry turned his head back to Stacy.

"Do you know who tried to make the task more dangerous and lively?" She hadn't mentioned it and Harry thought it may not be answered.

Rufus was the one that responded. "The Minister's office seems to have initiated the idea to the Department of Magical Sports and Games. At this time, no single person is set to shoulder the blame. The Minister's office, claims", his dour face showed how little he believed the claim, "it was an idea sent along and not a mandated order."

Harry sighed. Either more stupidity by the ministry or active sabotage. It was clear to him that the investigation was now over.

"Now as to your final question, I can mail you a list of reporters that we have good relations or find out who is covering the tournament and suggest one among them," Amelia answered in reply to the final question they hadn't yet answered.

"Uh, only my owl can find me where I stay. Could I send her to you tomorrow afternoon?"

"Very well then." She didn't look pleased with his response. He wondered if she was hoping to subtly find any info out about where he was staying. He wouldn't blame her if she tried.

Harry could feel the ambience of the room shift. He'd asked his questions and now they were preparing to ask theirs. He could feel his magic coalescing. It wasn't itching to be released, It was just preparing, and getting ready to protect him if required.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry quietly sat in the chair at the Lacroix Ballet Academy. He had been reflecting all day on his previous evening. He spent longer with the three than he had anticipated. He was sure they wished he'd said more and been more open than he was. In Harry's mind, he told them more than he wanted. Harry had found out a couple of items that he hadn't realized in his isolated Hogwarts career. Susan Bones was the niece of Amelia Bones and the Bones family was close to the Diggory family. Amos Diggory, whom he met earlier in the summer, had another brother. A brother that died in the last war. A brother that was Amelia's partner and by the way she mentioned him possibly more.

It made sense why Cedric had called her aunty when their two families were obviously still close. Having both Susan and Cedric together in Hufflepuff wouldn't hurt either. They had a lot of questions about where he grew up but that turned out to be a rather mundane trail of questions. He gave them rather plain answers and nothing specific. It wasn't until they asked about rumours that had come out of Hogwarts that things got rather serious. He'd given them the full story on Quirrell and the shade of Riddle that he had seen twice in his first year. That led to frantic questioning and Harry giving up his memory of the two encounters with the Dark Lord.

They didn't ask about the petrifications or the whole Heir of Slytherin affair in his second year. The entire school knew about the attacks. If there wasn't enough evidence already that there was something protecting the Chamber of Secrets, it was pretty well an indisputable fact in his mind now. Harry was quite happy to not bring it up. That led to his third year and Harry was rather circumspect in his retelling of the year. He told them about all of his altercations with dementors, save the real details of the last one. It was at this point Harry decided to gamble a bit.

He kept to the official story of them having an altercation with Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. He kept to the accepted story and made it obvious he did not believe he was confounded. They didn't ask for a memory of the incident. Memories were inadmissible evidence in legal proceedings.

He thought it went well, the DMLE would now be investigating Voldemort and his lack of demise. They would know more about his background and the three seemed to all be operating under the same understanding. There were people free who should not be and many had eyes and ears inside the Ministry. He truly wondered how much they suspected even before they talked to him. A seed was planted for Sirius's innocence too.

If last night wasn't nerve-racking enough, tonight he was getting a dance partner. At first, he thought it would be his date for the Yule Ball. Then he realized he was assuming again. It was a habit that Lacroix was trying to break Harry of. She'd commented multiple times on him putting words in her mouth or trying to jump to conclusions that she hadn't stated. Tonight, he would not do that. It didn't help his nerves at all.

Harry could see Lacroix and the same girl in the dance studio who was normally there at this time. He had figured it was a short private lesson where the young girl could get extra one-on-one instruction. She looked somewhere between the ages of ten and twelve. He really wasn't sure. He watched as she continued moving gracefully. Harry thought he'd learn more about ballet just by osmosis. He was in a ballet academy, so something ought to rub off or float into his brain. So far he was just as clueless as when he first came here.

He didn't even know the proper name for the outfit the girl had on. He thought dancers wore tights and tutus? He thought he heard something about leos and tards. What 'lion tards' translated to in dance lingo, he still hadn't figured out. It seemed they had their own language which he didn't understand. He supposed it was like someone watching a quidditch team practice when they didn't understand any of the lingo or strategies.

Harry waited patiently for the appropriate time to arrive and was surprised when Lacroix motioned for the girl to come meet him. He'd seen her practising most days and didn't even know her name.

"Harry, this is Hannah Fairway, a pupil of mine that is kindly willing to assist in your instruction."

Madame Lacroix stepped out from in between them allowing Harry to approach and give her a proper greeting, which he did by kissing her hand.

"Hannah, it's my pleasure to introduce Harry Potter."

He saw her cheeks tinged with pink. It eased his nerves somewhat knowing she was nervous like him.

After the greeting, they moved onto the dance floor with the ever impervious dance instructor watching.

The aged instructor looked at him, with a withering glance, and barked out a single word that he knew the full meaning of. "Posture!"

Harry moved his feet to the correct length apart, he lifted his chest, and he stopped his shoulders from slumping.

She circled him, like a hawk scouring for its prey, tapping his chest with her stick. He lifted it slightly higher in response. As if that really mattered, Harry thought, but would never dare to voice. She tapped the underside of his left arm.

"No drooping." She stated and Harry lifted his shoulders, and thus elbows, a little higher. She tapped his stomach to ensure his core muscles were activated properly. Lacroix nodded to Hannah and the girl took her posture.

"Your left in her right." She nodded as their hands clasped together. "Her left on your right arm." Hannah made the appropriate movement. "Now, your right on her left shoulder blade." The two stood in the closed position with their bodies off-centre from each other.

Harry moved his other hand into position. Her stick made contact lowering it and pushing it further around her body. Harry was glad he was practising with a younger, undeveloped, girl. He'd never held a girl or woman like this before. There wasn't any kind of sexual contact, neither of their body parts was in contact with anything that could be deemed as inappropriate. This was a waltz, classical and elegant dancing, after all.

It was the proximity and closeness that was nerve-racking. He imagined it would be far more difficult to learn if he was doing it with someone as gorgeous as Fleur Delacour. He'd be far more distracted by being so close to such radiance. Hannah had the makings of a very beautiful young woman, she just hadn't blossomed yet.

"Walking first, forwards and backwards, heel-toe, heel-toe."

The first evening was a lesson he would never forget. It's so easy to just step forward right? No! Heel-toe isn't just put the heel down first and then the toe. There was a whole art to it… Next was the swing. When he stepped forward it was like he was going forward on a swing. His hips lead and his upper body leaned back. Then he reversed the exaggerated hip swing as he stepped back. He felt he had gotten quite good at it. With a few hours of constantly just stepping forward and backwards, you really have to become proficient at it. Between Lacroix teaching and her charms pushing and forcing his body positioning to the correct places, it was the only concludable outcome.

Harry stepped forward then stepped forward again. He stepped right into Hannah! She had stepped forward, assuming he would be stepping back next, and the two collided, though not too hard. Harry tried to keep from going red in embarrassment as the two collided and he knew it was his fault.

"Non, forward-back, forward-back. Repeat until I say otherwise," Lacroix drilled out at him, obviously annoyed Harry hadn't gotten the instructions clear. He thought it would be the same as the first lesson on movement! Forward forward back back! He didn't grumble, even though he felt like it, the woman was a sadist in her teaching mode and would find a way to punish even grumbled insolence.

They began stepping forward and back together. Hannah was graceful and obviously well beyond such basic movements. Harry was not quite as good as he thought he was. He felt the constricting of the charms when his body began to slump or move out of position. He wasn't quite sure how you would step on each other's toes so easily, as he heard beginners did regularly. Perhaps it was how he was taught. Each component one at a time before adding in new elements. He was quite good at the solo box step waltz.

Their bodies were positioned well, off-centred as Harry had been shown, and there was no risk of interlocking their legs. They practised moving forward and backwards over and over and over and over and over and over! Harry kept working on his body positioning so the charms didn't press against him keeping him in perfect position. The faster he got better, the quicker they would move on.

Mercifully, they began the next basic component. Sidestepping, when he stepped left he lifted the left side of his chest. Going back to his right he did the opposite, lifting the right side of his chest, giving his body a swaying motion. They began the repetitive cycle as Lacroix continued to prod him with her stick correcting posture and guided his movements. He needed to be fluid, not clunky. She continued to correct until he had the movement down, with a partner this time, and until the charms weren't firing to keep him in line.

"Box step, no rise and fall and no turning," Lacroix instructed and so they began their clockwise circling of the box. Lacroix started her counting again. Harry could hear her staccato voice chanting un deux trois already, he heard it in his head many times throughout each day. It plagued him during his physical exercises the most. You'd think running would be more un deux, un deux, un deux. Somehow the dance instructor had turned his rhythmic footfalls of his run into un deux trois, un deux trois. He could hear her voice counting even as he ran on just two feet!

The counting only stopped to correct posture but they were moving well together so it wasn't needed frequently. He'd practised the movements by himself the previous week and was deemed acceptable, in the she-devil's eyes, at the movements. Harry was surprised at how well he was doing, dancing in time, with Hannah. It was _almost_ enjoyable.

"Rise and Fall." Harry was expecting this or the turning to come soon. The charms weren't encroaching upon his movements at all. He noticed Hannah was a very smooth dancer. There were no mistakes that were being corrected on her part. She followed his lead and mirrored his movements with ease. Her eyes constantly sought his as they moved together in unison. From the way her blue eyes lit up, she seemed to be enjoying herself.

Harry focused on adding the rise and falling aspects of the waltz.

"Un"

Harry kept his feet in the fall position as he stepped forward, low. As he moved to the second position he began his ascent, rising onto his toes.

"Deux"

With his feet apart and at full rise position, him standing tall on his toes, he stayed at full height as left foot moved to meet his right, keeping the proper sway motion with the right side of his chest lifted. He lowered down to the fall position, flat-footed, so it completed, with a smooth motion, at the end of three. After the lesson on how to rise and fall, his calf and shin muscles protested vigorously.

"Trois"

The pattern continued as he stepped back in the fall position, his hips swinging properly. His chest stayed standing tall and his shoulder in their proper position, not slouched in the least. They continued into the second position with the proper sway and rise, and completed the correct rhythm into the third step.

The minutes past moving well together as Lacroix counted and infrequently corrected the movements. Lacroix instructed them to add the quarter-turn near the ending of their session. A quarter-turn to each full count of three with the turn primarily occurring in the second part. Harry felt he was actually dancing rather well for his first time with a partner. It was the basic form of the waltz but he doubted most of the boys his age would know anything beyond the way to hold your partner and step in coordination. The two young people continued dancing as Lacroix counted.

Un deux trois, un deux trois, un deux trois, fin."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice setup chapter, I'm surprised how quickly it came together. I even cut a small completed scene to next chapter. I Preferred the symmetry of the chapter ending. This is being written far faster than I expected. I'll keep working as time permits and update when I'm able to. Dec is a slow time for my line of work so that helps. When I have clear ideas the content flows out quickly.
> 
> Interesting to see a couple notes on wanting more info on the rituals. They are pretty scant on details for two reasons. 1. I haven't revealed everything about them even with a part on them in this chapter. They are important for reasons not known yet. 2. I don't want this fic to be seen as competing with some that have done that rituals so well in CoS dominant stories. DarknessEnthroned's A Cadmean Victory does the Salazar portrait and ritual aspects so well I don't want to be seen as even encroaching on them.
> 
> There were some reviews about issues in first two chapters. I wrote them months before I published. I'm sure I can go back and clean them up so they are more coherent and have less info dump etc. I'm going to just push forward and let it be. I don't want to start rewriting chapters or every 5-10 chapters I'll be doing that. It's a first fic for me and I'm okay having my work improve as I write. I didn't write my favorite story ideas for this exact reason.
> 
> Final review note for the person worried about OCs taking over the story. I'm trying to keep the PoV pretty well Harry centric. This is a Harry Potter story. The type of story I'm writing necessitates OCs. The world beyond Hogwarts is pretty blank in the cannon books and I'm veering entirely out of the cannon storyline pretty quickly. I will be trying to flesh out OC characters and their backgrounds are important. Hopefully I'll find a nice balance but be assured this isn't about my ego or pushing OC characters to the forefront.
> 
> I read a short fic recently where the author stated in the AN that they respond to every single review directly. Is that normal? Is there some etiquette for fanfic I'm unaware of? I know some authors don't allow guest reviews. I've deleted a couple that were blatant trolling posts and I even let negative guest feedback/reviews through as long as they have some sort of ground to stand on. Not everyone will like my story and that's cool. Thanks for the reviews favs and follows.
> 
> On to the next chapter.


	7. Fleckerl

**Formatting note: **~"parseltongue speech"~

Another dance lesson ended, and Harry found himself sitting in the office that he was becoming rather familiar with. Lacroix was conjuring the normal chalices and filling them with water so Harry took the opportunity to ask the first question.

"As you haven't mentioned it, I'm guessing Hannah Fairway is not the date you have selected for me?"

Lacroix place the chalice in front of him and observed at him for a moment. She seemed pleased with the question if Harry was reading her body language correctly.

"No, she is too young. She is rather mature for eleven, but still just eleven."

"Does she attend Hogwarts?" He didn't recall seeing her at the start of this year. He certainly could have missed her especially if she was put into another house.

"No, like her mother, at this age, and her older sister, she spends too much of her time training in ballet to consider attending a boarding school. They complete their education at home and with tutors. Her mother was a rather good dancer and had a good long career. Both of her daughters have chosen to try for the same path. Anna is well on her way to be a professional and Hannah is quite talented herself."

"The sisters are named Anna and Hannah?"

Lacroix gave a small chuckle. "Yes, it's actually much worse than similar-sounding sibling names. Without the age gap they could very well be twins, and their mother's name, of course, is Susanna."

"Susanna, Anna and Hannah?" He parroted incredulously. "No way!"

He snuck a look to see if she was trying to pull one over on him.

It didn't look like it but he still wanted to clarify. "Really?" he asked.

Lacroix laughed more pronounced now and shook her head. Harry couldn't believe a family would do such a ridiculous thing. Harry joined her with a laugh of his own. Once settled she continued.

"For your date, I was originally thinking of Anna Fairway. She's quite talented and has a good part in our next production. It would do well for her family, and help her confidence. A nice evening with a charming young celebrity and a chance to spend time at Hogwarts, the schooling opportunity she gave up to pursue ballet." The Madame mused aloud, almost whimsically.

"Originally?" Harry questioned back.

"Yes, originally. It may well end up that way still. Anna is a lovely young lady and is your age. She'd be a lovely and enchanting date for the evening."

This was his date, he really wanted to know who he was going with. He was going to push for more information.

"May I inquire into what is causing you to deviate from your plan?"

She looked at him debating on whether to answer his question or not. He always felt she was evaluating him, teaching him and slowly but surely warming up to him more and more.

"You are" was her simple even-keeled response.

Harry didn't respond, he waited to see if she would elaborate. He was getting better at non-verbal cues in conversation.

"I expected you to be different, a typical celebrity, a pureblood heir. You don't have an ego and you don't expect to be waited on hand and foot. Then, I expected more push back from you, especially with the use of my dance tutorial charms. I don't normally use them so long, nothing beyond an hour. Yet, you didn't complain about the soreness in your muscles as you practised for four straight hours day after day. Some minor grumbling but no temper tantrums, no yelling, just dedication and hard work. I can see you have the drive to be great, your passion just isn't dancing."

Harry continued to wait. The charms were brutal on his muscles; they forced him to be in a position and into a posture his body wasn't used to. He'd thought it was because he was having rushed dance lessons. With only a month to get into form, she was cramming in more than normal. Could she have done less?

"I pushed you and tried to make you uncomfortable, to give up, to concede. Instead, you persevered, you buckled down, and learned as quickly as you could! With your progress, when the night of the ball comes you won't just be a good dancer for your age. You will be a great dancer, period."

"There is much to consider in the match I'm pontificating. There are social and political ramifications to consider. Pairing you with Anna is rather straightforward. None of my patrons can be upset that I did not pair you with anyone from their family, or closely tied to it. None will begrudge the match. There will be pressure when our connection is made public, for me to introduce you to others. Without the political implications, I would consider pairing you with my most promising dancer. One who I could see pairing up well with you. I'm just not sure I should risk the downside; downside for both you and for me."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry had an issue, well several of them, but one was rather pressing. He had a teacher that he couldn't interact with and he needed to learn how to move around in the magical world. Using a public floo and trekking through the Hogwarts grounds, then through a crappy tunnel, before sneaking in and out of a haunted house wasn't really a very good solution. It was his only current option and a rather poor one at that.

He needed to learn how to apparate or create portkeys. If he could talk to his mentor he could just ask. Instead he was sitting in the chamber petting cuddles and debating how he could learn. The Hogwarts library seemed like his best option at the moment. He wondered if the curriculum that he was taking in the Chamber covered it soon. He already knew the chamber adapted to his actions, could he communicate with it?

"Chamber of Secrets, or, uh, Salazar Slytherin? Do you understand me? Can you listen to me? I need to learn how to use portkeys and apparate. I can't just be stuck here all the time!" He felt like a complete dolt. Sitting in his chair talking loudly to empty air, to inanimate objects.

He watched the books in the room with bated breath. Hoping one would suddenly glow. His eyes scoured the room and he even got up.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

He sighed. Obviously it didn't work.

An errant thought filtered through: What about parseltongue? He is in a chamber that required parseltongue to enter...

~"I need to learn how to apparate and use portkeys. Can you understand me? Can you communicate with me?"~

Harry waited again. He was looking around the room when he saw, out of the corner of his eye, that Cuddles had woken up and extricated herself from him.

That was odd. The little beasty slept and demanded pets usually. It didn't normally ever fly off around this time.

He tore his gaze away from the search and focused back on the black dragon, whose spikes had a bronze sheen in the light as she flew. Harry watched it fly to a bookshelf and snag a book off the top shelf. Cuddles flew back and dropped it on the desk in front of an astonished Harry Potter.

Cuddles stood tall on its hind legs and preened. Harry stared at the book then the dragon. He quickly kept shifting his head to look from one to the other, repeatedly. Cuddles was not impressed and shot a warning of fire out her nostrils. Harry knew what that meant and immediately made to soothe the dragon. He began caressing it just how she liked. The dragon walked off the desk and glided onto his lap to once again be in her favourite position while he studied.

With detached and idle movements, Harry pet the dragon while wondering what had just happened. He used his free hand to turn over the book so it's front was face up. Like most of the books, it had a blank front. Harry opened the first page and immediately noticed it was a book on wizarding methods of travel and how to prevent them. Portkeys, apparition, broomsticks, flying carpets, and floo were among the topics he recognized easily. There were more topics he knew very little on like splinching, anti-portkey wards, anti-apparition wards, anti-broom wards and many more. It was the first book in the Chamber that hadn't glowed before it showed words, aside from the main memoir.

Harry abruptly got up needing to see if it was just this book or the whole shelf and he just missed that there were other books available for him to read. Cuddles growled upset at having been dislodged from its source of heat and, more importantly, affection. She flew behind him and landed on his shoulder with her tail wrapping around behind his neck for extra stability.

Harry grabbed the two books that were previously on either side of the one Cuddles had removed from the shelf. As soon as he had grasped them he scrutinized them intently. Both had plain front covers and as he flipped through the pages he discovered neither had any words written in them. He put them back and began systematically working through the entire shelf.

From the top shelf all the way down to the floor, he searched through book after book finding them empty. Just like the first time, not even a single one of them had any visible words. Harry looked at his little dragon and wondered if the dragon's magic broke the concealing charms?

While moving back to sit at his desk, Harry grabbed a book and started rubbing the book up against the horntail. The only effect Harry elicited was the growling of an annoyed dragon. A black beast that was frothing fire in warning.

Harry stared at his dragon wondering what was going on. Could it understand parseltongue?

~"Can dragons speak parseltongue? Can you understand me?"~ he asked into the Chamber void of life besides himself, a tiny dragon and Dobby.

Cuddles had watched him as he spoke parseltongue but didn't respond at all. As far as Harry could tell all it looked like was that she wanted was more cuddling… The Horntail put its head back down on him and closed its eyes angling just for it.

~"You don't understand me?"~

The magical creature continued its plan to fall asleep on Harry's lap. Harry frowned trying to work out what had just happened. How had the little dragon just gotten him a book? A book that now had writing in it, and was on the very topic he had asked for instruction in.

He shook the little dragon and tried again. Repeating the same phrase in parseltongue.

The only response from the midnight black dragon was a deep rumbling growl as it burrowed further into him. Any further attempts were parried by the little gremlin refusing to acknowledge him. It just wanted to sleep.

Harry exhaled deeply in frustration, he needed more information. The dragon, other than getting him the book he desperately needed hadn't acted out of character. Had Cuddles been possessed?

He was getting really tired of all these mysteries, even ones that only had direct benefits for him.

Harry sat back deep in the chair. He used his single free hand to rub his face. He needed a way to know more about parseltongue. A moment of Deja vu overtook him. He'd had the same thought back in second year and when he stayed in Diagon Alley, the following summer, he'd ordered one. He hadn't gotten around to actually reading it, he got it delivered the morning he went back to Hogwarts and between Sirius's escape and the dementor on the train he'd not gotten around to studying it.

Harry called Dobby and instructed him to bring it quickly. It was far faster than walking over to his trunk and searching for it himself.

He quickly flipped it open and began reading.

_Parseltongue is a topic of research that scholars have debated for millennia with very few discerned results. There are minimal credible facts because only one who speaks the language is able to provide clarity or even answer basic questions about the language. There may be written records, however, any that have been passed down, by speakers of the language, have never been made public and are guarded zealously within private libraries- if they even exist._

_One undisputed fact about the language is that it is a magical language. While there are other languages unique to the magical world, mermish and gobbledegook, Parseltongue is the only dialect known that cannot be reproduced. One either has the ability to speak the serpent language or one does not. There is no way to teach it and even its hereditary passing is ill-understood. The human body cannot, naturally, produce the sounds and tongue movements required to speak parseltongue._

_What is more, the bloodlines that have carried the ability to use it do not always produce the gift amongst their offspring. Further research has proven the bloodline ability does not pass to a new family. Seconds sons started their own family lines, and women married off from their family, have never passed the ability on to their children. Not a single record has been recorded to refute it. The few families that have ever produced offspring that speak the serpent tongue are the only ones known to have ever done so._

_Research into the potential uses of a magical language has produced little more than conjecture. There are some facts that have been produced by observation only that….._

Harry sighed. In second year Hermione had futilely searched the Hogwarts library for information on it. She was able to procure a list of those known to have spoken it and she explained the list was not even comprehensive.

He continued reading and found the book that he was finding out was rather useless. There were guesses and hints but little else. It was thought dragons could not speak parseltongue, generally but not by all. Some scholars had thought they may be able to comprehend it but not respond. The documentation supporting it was sparsely more than conjecture though. Harry wondered if his dragon got him the book then refused to acknowledge him any more. Could it only understand commands? At this point in time, he needed to focus on apparition and portkeys. He needed a reliable way to move around the magical world. Parseltongue could wait.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Samantha Roberts looked differently than Harry had expected. She had light brown haircut where her hair hugged her face as it dropped down to her shoulders with an inward curl. She was slightly overweight and had slight skin creases on her forehead. Noticeably shorter than average and less moderately endowed she was a rather plain witch.

In her chosen profession she was anything but plain. The information he had gotten from Director Bones indicated she was a highly respected Daily Prophet journalist known for thorough research and a impeccable integrity. She was the kind of reporter that put their principles first. Harry could respect that; he didn't need a spin on his story, just honest and accurate reports.

Harry was seated across from her in a private room that she had guaranteed to be private, not that it mattered when his words would be reported in public. They had met in a private room at the Leaky Cauldron and exchanged greetings and allowances to call each other 'Harry' and 'Sam'. Their discussion was just getting started. They had prearranged, by letter, that Harry would have minor editorial control. It was a small price for Sam to pay to garner the first-ever one-on-one interview with the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Well, Mister Potter, you had asked for the meeting, did you have anything particular you wanted to discuss?" She looked him over shrewdly.

"Not really, I know my last, and first-ever, media availability didn't go perfectly and I wanted to meet with someone ahead of the next event. I'd like to take the focus off me by answering questions ahead of time, clearing up misinformation and so on…."

"Do you have an idea of how you wanted this to go?"

Harry shifted in his seat slightly. "No, this is my first real interview and Director Bones suggested I deal with you." Harry didn't add he'd done his own research and was happy to see her advice lined up with his own perceptions. Name dropping his acquaintance with Bones might help too.

"How about I ask you questions to begin and you answer the ones you feel comfortable with?"

Harry was sitting rather evenly in his chair, he was trying to project confidence in his body language, even while he felt nervous.

"Sure, we can try that and see how it goes." He gave her a tentative smile.

He watched as she pulled out a quill and parchment from her bag. She'd notified him she'd run a dictaquill to ensure the quotes taken are perfectly accurate and she'd have perfect notes to refer to.

Her posture seemed to change as she focused back on him. She turned more serious and professional.

"Okay Harry, how about we start off with something easier: where did you grow up and can you describe what it was like?"

Harry felt his stomach drop. Such an innocuous question for most people and like traversing a minefield for him to answer. Should he really say how he was mistreated by the muggles and give the Dark Lord's followers pitch for their fiery hatred of all things muggle? Should he throw the headmaster under the bus? He would need the man in his fight against Voldemort, more than likely, and yet he still wanted to…

"I grew up with my mother's sister, her husband and their son. I was kept out of the magical world and was unaware of it until I met with a Hogwarts representative." A short statement of facts he hoped she'd catch onto the direction he'd prefer to guide it to.

Her eyebrows shot into her hairline as she listened. "You weren't aware of magic until you were eleven?!" She had to ask the follow-up question. How could he not have been aware? He wasn't a muggleborn.

His ploy had worked.

"Yea, I was told that it was done on purpose so I could experience a more normal childhood."

"But they could have done that and made you aware of magic."

Harry nodded. He had many times thought the exact same point. Why was he kept ignorant of magic. He could have begun learning about magic years before school started and not been informed of his celebrity status.

"I wasn't told why I was kept ignorant of the magical world growing up and why I didn't receive a single letter until I got my Hogwarts acceptance letter. I felt rather overwhelmed as an eleven-year-old and there are still things I believe I am unaware of that my parents would have taught me growing up. There's nothing I can do it about now though so I try not to dwell on it…"

She had stopped her line of questioning unsure of where to proceed next. She had a number of topics to ask about and just the response to the first question brought up too many further issues. The boy was a walking printing press. Every time he'd opened his mouth, in front of the press, it could spawn multiple articles.

Sam swished her wand and the quill on that had been upright and scratching out a record of the conversation fell flat to the parchment.

"Harry, how aware are you of the wizarding world?"

Harry made to respond but she held up her hand to stop him.

"I mean really, truly, aware are you? I have a whole line of questions ready for you from your lack of attendance at the annual event held in honour of your defeat of You-Know-Who, to why you have authorized books that are a fiction of your upbringing, to why you don't respond to wizarding mail, to why your childhood home still stands in ruins, and I could go on and on."

Harry looked at her closely. "This is off the record?" He asked gesturing with his hand and head toward the quill that had been deactivated.

"Yes"

"I'm woefully informed. I've been isolated from the wizarding world other than Hogwarts and Diagon Alley shopping trips for school supplies. This tournament has given me an opportunity I can't let pass. I'm going to use this opportunity to take control of my life."

Harry saw a gleam in her eye. He could see her struggle with what direction to take their discussion, how to follow up his responses. He wasn't stupid, he was giving her a good opportunity. If he was as famous as Lacroix suggested then having a close association with him would help any reporters career. She was well established in her career and it wouldn't make her career but accolades and being the envy of her peers was beneficial.

"How would a fourteen-year-old get emancipated? I've never heard of anyone so young being emancipated. Sixteen sure, fourteen never."

She was sharp at a tac Harry ruefully thought. She'd read between the lines without hesitation.

"I think my situation is rather unique. I'm in a tournament enforced by a binding magical contract that only allows adults to participate. Two Ministry department heads declared I must compete, thereby calling me an adult, and my Magical Guardian told me I had to compete too. From what Gringotts has told me, I am magically emancipated for the duration of the tournament. The actions of the ministry and Dumbledore have approved my legal emancipation. I just need to meet the requirements."

She sat eerily still the further he progressed in the understanding he had been given by Gringotts. He could see her biting her lower lip deep in thought.

"What are the requirements you mentioned?" She asked once she had ordered her thoughts.

"OWLs in the wanded subjects: Transfiguration, DADA, Charms."

"That can't be all."

Harry shrugged, "From what I have been told I meet all the requirements except the OWLs. I'm sure there is more to it but as Gringotts takes care of legal paperwork filings. I'll trust they are correct."

He watched her jot out a note, probably a note to check on emancipation laws.

"You'll need to write your OWLs before the tournament is over and the final task is prior to the scheduled examinations. Then again, your not a Hogwarts student and there are homeschooled examinations… Are they after the Hogwarts ones though? Do you have a plan for where you will be examined before the tournament ends?"

Harry hadn't considered that yet. He'd been focused on learning enough to write them…

"I'm not sure" he responded with a scowl. "I'm preparing for them and am probably ready to write them soon."

Another surprising revelation from a teen whose marks, as far as she was able to find out, were decidedly mediocre on the whole. How could he have learned so much so quickly? She'd used a favour to learn his third-year end of the year results were nothing tremendous.

"In my line of work I've found it best to converse with ministry employees by personal correspondence rather than by sending requests, or letters, through the ministry itself. I'd suggest an OWL to Griselda Marchbanks the Governor of the Wizarding Examinations Authority."

Harry pulled out his own short journal and wrote down the name and her position so he could do as she advised. Fortunate knowledge given that he hadn't yet considered how he was to actually write his exams.

"Okay, then there are quite a few questions that you've indirectly provided clarity on. I have quite a lot of options for topics to write on."

She grabbed her pre-written notes and leafed through them. Glancing at various parts and taking time to read some parts.

"Are we in agreement that there can be follow up interviews? I can begin to reveal article after article in such a manner that it will not interfere with your plans?"

"As long as you've do what we agreed on occurs it works for me."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_ **Harry Potter the Boy-Who-Was-Isolated** _

_Samantha Roberts_

_The Daily Prophet has secured the first-ever one-on-one interview with the enigmatic Boy-Who-Lived. It follows on the heels of the first-ever instance of his taking questions from the wizarding media at large. His whereabouts during his early life was well out of the public's eyes and aside from the Adventures of Harry Potter book series nothing has been written about the young man's upbringing. The Daily Prophet has sought to begin to unveil the young man kept hidden away in the muggle world. In this exclusive interview the young man opens up about his upbringing, prior to Hogwarts._

_**S:**_ _Many have speculated on your upbringing and where you were raised. Can you give the wizarding public an idea of where you grew up and how magical it was?_

_ **H: ** _ _Magical? No, I grew up in the muggle world and I attended muggle school starting at age five like any normal one would. It wasn't until my Hogwarts letter came that I even know about magic._

_**S:**_ _Who did you live with?_

_**H:**_ _I lived with my mother's sister Petunia. My uncle Vernon and my cousin Dudley who is the same age as me._

_**S:**_ _You didn't know you were a wizard until you were eleven?_

_**H:**_ _Well I knew there was something different about me… I just didn't know that it was just instances of accidental magic._

_**S:**_ _If you lived with your mother's sister wouldn't she have told you about magic?_

_**H:**_ _No, they hoped I wasn't a wizard. They didn't even let me know my parents were magical. I think they hoped I would be a mundane like them._

_**S:**_ _What kind of accidental magic happened?_

_**H:**_ _Well, I talked to a snake and freed it by vanishing the glass that kept it on display in the zoo. There was another time when I changed the my teachers hair colour. I kind of apparated onto my school roof one time and there were multiple incidents of levitating, summoning and banishing too._

_**S:**_ _Apparition? I've never heard of anything like that. How many incidents can you think of?_

_**H:**_ _I can think of at least a dozen of hand. Probably more if I think about it. I didn't keep track of it. The last time was after my second year at Hogwarts. Obliviators had to come and undo the magic._

_After the interview sources from within the MInistry, the ICW and experts from St Mungos confirmed the number of incidents and types of accidental magic make one conclusion: Harry Potter is a powerful wizard. The average child, in the UK, grows up with 3.6 noticeable occurrences of accidental magic. Offhandedly, Harry Potter could recall at least a dozen. While summoning, banishing and colour changing charms are somewhat regular incidents, vanishing and line of sight apparition are spectacular. None of the sources were able to confirm any other known circumstances of the two feats... Even accidental magic after Hogwarts starting is unprecedented._

_**S:**_ _Do you know why you were kept away from the wizarding world and purposefully kept ignorant of magic?_

_**H:**_ _I asked the headmaster once. He told me it was so I could have a normal childhood away from my fame. He's never been forthcoming with information whenever I ask questions. He tells me things like I'm too young to know about such things so I just haven't bothered asking further since first year._

_**S:**_ _Does it bother you that you were kept from magic deliberately?_

_**H:**_ _That's kind of hard to answer. I would have done anything to have known about my heritage sooner but it's not something I could control… Decisions were made for me and I bear the consequences of them now. I can't change what happened and I don't waste time thinking about it. I doubt I'm the worst off magical child so why bother complaining when others have had worse ya know?_

_**S:**_ _Can you describe your living arrangements further? What did you do for fun? Did you travel?_

_**H:**_ _I lived in a pretty standard muggle neighbourhood. Well kept modest homes. I had a rather small bedroom and grew up doing a lot of chores. Aside from attending school, I didn't get out much nor did I ever travel. I'm not really sure what to say. My upbringing was rather mundane and unspectacular to talk about._

_**S:**_ _What about friends? If you took classes with them you'd have spent six years in the muggle world. Do you keep in contact with them?_

_**H:**_ _No, since I learned about magic I've not kept in contact with anyone I'd met in school. In a way it was lucky I didn't have any good friends in muggle school. How would I have explained my absence and kept magic from them?_

_If it wasn't clear to anyone already, The Harry Potter Adventure book series is complete fabrication. While the books do not explain they are fictional they also do not claim to be true. Beyond the shadow of doubt, Harry Potter's upbringing was one isolated from magic._

_Albus Dumbledore, his magical guardian, did not respond to requests for an interview to accompany the article. The reason given to Harry Potter was true. He did grow up away from fame but it is evident it also harmed him. For full article on Harry Potter and the Triwizard Tournament, so far, refer to Harry Potter & the Triwizard Selection page 4._

_**S:**_ _How did you feel about the press coverage of the First Task?_

_**H:**_ _I had no idea it was coming. I was totally caught off guard. I showed up for the task and found myself in front of Director Bones of the DMLE. I didn't know about the manhunt for me. Then after completing the bollixed up first task, I got my medical checkup, my score, instructions for the second task, and when I went to leave I was told about it. Then next thing I knew I'm in front of all these people and they keep asking me question after question. I tried to shift attention off just me. The thing wasn't moderated at all. It was a total free-for-all, other than only one question coming at a time. Why would they let them ask me about hypothetical reactions of my deceased parent's that I'd never met? At that point I knew I had to leave. Things were deteriorating. If they could ask about my deceased parents what else would they follow up with?_

_**S:**_ _Nobody prepared you for it?_

_**H:**_ _Nope. I had no idea at all. I was told as I was trying to leave._

_**S:**_ _You mentioned you didn't know about the manhunt can you explain how that's possible? It was on the front page of this paper and many most other wizarding publications before the First Task._

_**H:**_ _When I withdrew from Hogwarts I went somewhere else to stay that is very safe and secure. I don't receive any mail there and I was too busy learning and focusing on how to survive a tournament meant for seventeen-year-olds. There's not much to it. I didn't have a subscription to any news. I'd sent a withdrawal letter and told them I was safe. After that I just focused on my studies._

_**S:**_ _You're not willing to say who's teaching you or where you are staying?_

_**H:**_ _No, I'm not._

_**S:**_ _You withdrew from Hogwarts why would you leave behind one of the best magical educations money can buy?_

_**H:**_ _I believe my current accommodations and individualized tutoring will be better for me at this time._

He stopped reading, he had gone over it a few times already and was watching Madame Lacroix read through it. These articles would be hitting the Daily Prophet tomorrow unless Harry objected strongly to one thing or another. Harry continued to wait as she was working through the first article and had yet to start on the second. The first focused on his early life and after going through the questions and answers she speculated on just why he was kept so isolated.

The article was well written and she had clearly done her a lot of research. The second article's introduction, prefacing the interview, was very informative. Reading like a mix between historical account and a novel. It drew the reader in through the history of the tournament and its ups and downs over the years.

She highlighted previous winners and the notable things they had accomplished. She'd covered a dark wizard that had won by killing his competitors prior to openly trying to overthrow Prussia. Stories of dangerous creatures rampaging and killing contestants and political fallout from previous tournaments- one even sparking a minor war when the prince of a fiefdom had been killed due to foul play. Samantha took the reader through the importance of the tournament and just why they were _so very_ willing to do away with an event that became a growing abomination the longer it was held.

Each tournament tried to outdo those previous. Tasks that were accomplishable for a top student became more and more outrageous. It went from having to utilize technically complicated feats of magic to spectator driven games that grew increasingly alike to the barbaric events hosted in the Colosseum during the reign of the Roman Empire. Towards the end only the most foolhardy and desperate would be willing to even consider entering. When the final disaster of the cockatrice occurred, the tournament ended with a deadly bang and only a few whimpers of wanting to keep it going were ever heard.

Beyond the history of the tournament, Samantha interpreted the report from the DMLE explaining how it was clear the Goblet of Fire was tampered with to ensure Harry was an unwilling participant and that there were no suspects as of yet. It walked the reader through the known, and speculated, events that led to the unprecedented fourth champion. Harry had read through the question and answer section multiple times and was doing so again. He kept skipping over her comments that were intermittently interspersed between them this time.

_**S:**_ _How do you feel about the tournament selection now that the DMLE has released their report? You were maligned, even in this paper, for being the unheralded fourth champion do you feel vindicated in the face of your detractors?_

_**H:**_ _Honestly, I'm not really sure what exactly I should feel. I feel like that was so long ago now. I have so many other pressing items on my to-do list that whatever reaction I feel or felt towards my fellow peers is just not worth the effort. I'm focused on learning magic, learning my place in our society, and the tournament._

_**S:**_ _What about your friends, professors, housemates, dormmates, and your quidditch team members? How will they take your leaving Hogwarts? Will you maintain those friendships?_

_**H:**_ _You're asking the tough questions, I'm not sure really. I ask myself where were all of my parents' friends when I was growing up, or when I entered the wizarding world? Where were all those people you mentioned when I was being bullied and picked on at the start of the year? It's not something I'm focused on right now. I"ll have opportunities to talk with them and I'll take it case by case._

_**S:**_ _Why did you withdraw from Hogwarts? It is virtually unheard of for one to voluntarily leave Hogwarts._

_**H:**_ _Ever since the Championship selection I was being treated rather poorly. My roommates openly accused me of cheating and didn't have anything to do with me. Nobody verbally told me they believed I hadn't done it, even after I told them all I hadn't. Dumbledore knew I did not enter myself but neither he nor any of the other professors tried to put a stop to it. Nobody sought to help me so I sought my own and I'm rather pleased with the results._

_**S:**_ _I must ask again, are you willing to reveal where you are staying?_

_**H:**_ _No._

_**S:**_ _Can you tell us what kind of instruction you get now? A single person for all your classes or multiple tutors? I have searched for those considered the top tutors and everyone I contacted claims to not have ever talked with you nor instructed you._

_**H:**_ _Yes, well that's not surprising to hear. I have a mentor now and the results will show for themselves soon._

_**S:**_ _Any hints?_

_At this point, Harry just smiled enigmatically at me without answering the question._

_**S:**_ _Given your scathing remarks at the first press conference, now that you've had more time to reflect, how do you feel about the tournament committee?_

_**H:**_ _In what regards are you asking about?_

_**S:**_ _You were rather upset with being named a champion, the handling of the dragons, and lack of clarity on the events you were to participate in._

_**H:**_ _Ah, yes, those ones. I was most upset with two things really. The first is their ability to protect me as a minor and as a student. Secondly, how hard would it have been to inform me correctly about the events? Could they not have written it down and handed it out at the selection? Even after the first task, they failed to inform me of the next event. I had to learn it from the press. Their failures affected me, I bore the consequences, not them. I don't want to have to bear any more for the duration of the tournament._

_**S:**_ _Just safety and information control then?_

_**H:**_ _No, there was also their failure to inform the DMLE immediately which resulted in the evidence of how I was entered into the tournament being compromised. They have no leads, as far as I am aware of, and that keeps me in a vulnerable state. Whoever put me into the tournament did it maliciously._

_**S:**_ _Moving onto the next part of the tournament can you confirm you are attending the Yule Ball and whether you have a date already?_

_**H:**_ _I will be attending and my date will be a surprise. I don't wish to spoil it._

_**S:**_ _Not even a hint as to which school she attends?_

_**H:**_ _Nope._

_**S:**_ _How are your preparations going for the second task, have you sorted out the clue?_

_**H:**_ _Am I supposed to give away all my secrets in just one interview? Fine, I'll be a little forthcoming here. I deciphered the clue and preparations are well underway._

Lacroix was obviously a faster reader than Harry because she had already read through both articles as she was attentive to his presence again.

"An interesting choice with Samantha Roberts. I trust you realize that woman cannot let any stone stay unturned?"

"Yes, that was one of the reasons I chose her for the first exclusive. She has done pieces on such a wide array of topics and they were all elaborately done. I have nothing to hide in my life, the only things she might find are probably things I wish to learn myself. Already she was kind enough to provide the list and contact information of the top tutors she had contacted asking if I worked with." He tried to keep his face blank as he finished his last part. "She even provided yours for dance lessons although she notes you didn't return her owl."

Her eyebrow rose ever so slightly in response. "Did she now?"

"Yep"

The corners of her mouth upturned into a smile. "You can't get one over on me like that Harry."

"It was worth trying" he shrugged off his failure while grinning at the older woman he was really coming to like.

"All of my mail is sent to my box. All of it is checked ahead of time and I go through it each day. There's not a chance I would fail to respond to that woman. Besides, there is no way she would know you're a ready-made a Son of House Black." She chuckled at his antics internally pleased he was continuing to come out of his shell around her.

"I presume you brought me these because they are going to be printed shortly and you gained some form of editorial control?"

"Yes, I thought you might see if I missed anything that was important. They will be printed in the morning paper. Some feedback would be useful too."

Lacroix stare imperviously at him in calculation. "I think this is a better time to teach you how to do that yourself, first. I can teach you an exercise I use myself and if you find it valuable you can use it as a tool for yourself."

She waited for the disappointment on his face to fade and for him to respond positively before she continued on.

"Business intelligence is a crucial part of good decisions making processes. In fact, Business Intelligence's purpose is to help the firm make decisions. Have you ever heard the term before?"

It was also so great to see how this particular young person focused. He took in advice and was developing his critical thinking astonishingly well. The progress was far beyond what she experienced in most teens.

"No, I'm not familiar with it."

She dipper he chin acknowledging his ignorance. "I wouldn't expect you to. I'll explain it, then tell you what I focus on for the academy, and then you'll apply it to your situation."

"Business Intelligence refers to the apparatus and methodology you use to collect, analyze, and collate information that is then used to create useful insights and actionable intelligence for your business."

Seeing that dazed look in his eye she pressed on with an example so the academic terms could be understood easily.

"An example of just one methodology or apparatus used by The Ministry of Magic, for instance, is how it allows people to provide feedback by sending letters directly to them and they occasionally ask for feedback from the general public. Those are two ways in which they collect information from their customers, they then analyze the responses and organize it so the feedback is useful for making decisions."

"Oh, okay, that makes sense… How do you do it then for your academy?"

"We are a much smaller business than the government. I have very few parties that I need to procure information from and I do it personally. I have two simple questions that I ask people directly when I take them out for lunch."

Harry had sat forward as Lacroix was sharing information on how she keeps her business a success. He wouldn't be ungrateful by doing less than his best to learn from her.

"The first question I ask is what are we doing well that we need to continue doing?"

Harry's head tilted as he considered just what the purpose of the question.

"It's an important question to ask. Essentially I'm trying to find out what they believe makes us successful."

That made sense to him. How you saw yourself and how others view you often have incongruencies. Trying to solicit honest feedback could be rather useful.

"The second question is the opposite: where do you think we could do better? It's a simple way of asking many questions. What needs do they have that we are not meeting? where are our weaknesses? Where could we do better? And really, quite a lot more."

She didn't wait for him to respond.

"Those two simple questions were taught to me by my mother. She taught me to use them to reflect on my ballet routines. Where did I do well and where could I improve. It's rather simple to apply to every facet of your life."

"It does seem rather simple at its core. So you want me to say what I think I did well on with the interview and where I could have done better?"

"Yes, there is always room for improvement and analyzing your performances will help you achieve better results."

He'd already spent quite a lot of his idle time thinking over just that. How he could have answered questions differently, or even wished he had, was constantly on his mind since the interview. He had some ready made answers because of this.

"I thought I did well-avoiding subjects I hadn't wanted to talk about. I thought I did well in not attacking anyone needlessly this time. I made criticisms but didn't directly assign blame. I felt I was gracious in my response to the people that had wronged me and I didn't come off as a braggart."

He stopped to collect himself and tried to see how his dance instructor was taking his thoughts. As per normal, he had a hard time reading her when she didn't allow him too. She gestured with her hand for him to continue.

"I left intrigue in the areas where I wanted people to focus on. They will wonder about my date for the Yule Ball, and what I meant by they'd see the results of my education soon. I didn't feel I came off as a complainer in the discussion about my life. I raised logical points as to why I would have preferred otherwise but I let Sam run with it all while knowing I could influence where she went."

Harry stopped and waited for her to respond to his thoughts. She didn't. "And where you could improve?"

"Well, I had a hard time finding the line of being confident versus arrogant and I think I come off a bit like a wimp- that I'm weak and don't know anything in parts... I think with more experience I'll be better at responding to questions and communicating."

"All salient points. Let me clarify one of your questions. The major difference between confidence and arrogance is where it is expressed. Confidence is internal whereas arrogance is external. I teach my dancers to tell themselves they can do something, to visualize it, to believe it, and then to make it happen. It's a part of building their inward confidence. When the dancer then continually tells others their inner monologue, that they can do it each and every time without fail to perfection over and over, then they are being arrogant. See the difference?"

"Yes, but how does that work for an interview? Everything I say is external." Harry's face furrowed in confusion. Lacroix was again pleased how quickly he took in advice. He'd immediately caught onto the issue with her explanation.

"The difference is in how you say something. Your line about your magical education was well done. You had confidence that your progress will show and stated you'd let your actions speak for themselves. You would only say that if you were confident. Whereas arrogance would have you extolling how far ahead you are of your peers and tried to tell people just how prodigious you are."

That made sense. Telling himself he was going to catch the snitch at every game he played because he _knew_ he was the better seeker was confidence. Telling his teammates nobody could beat him because he was the best seeker at Hogwarts was arrogance.

"Oh, that makes sense, then it was something I did well then?" He questioned, still seeking reassurances of those in positions of authority over him.

"Overall you did rather well. Certainly room for improvement and that leads nicely into the second part of the advice that I'd like to impart to you."

She made sure she had his full attention before she spoke any further.

"You've heard similar sentiments from me but this is an idiom my mother taught me as well. True success begins with failure. Successful persons do not fear failure, they do not fear making a fool of oneself, and successful people have the courage to fall and get back up again, as many times as is required. The greatest dancers have fallen the most and in doing so they learned the lessons and dedication required to be great."

Harry was solemn-faced as he thought about the advice. It resembled the thoughts she had shared with him previously and it was good advice. Fear of failure can stop one from pushing themselves. Had he been holding himself back out of fear? Fear of being a celebrity? Fear of being the centre of attention? Fear of future expectations if he stood out now?

"I think you've done well as a starting point. You don't need to make enemies at this point and you are being portrayed as a likeable young man coming into his own. Perhaps, a little weak sounding, as you say, but you are just fourteen."

That was a fair point. Hard to come across as a powerful figure when he's still rather young to be emancipated. As Sam stated sixteen was normal and fourteen was unheard of. Hard to be commanding without experience backing oneself up. He would need actions to stand on.

"I'm not an expert at media relations, I just didn't want you out there disparaging powerful politicians at a young age creating adversaries that could very well last your life. The condition was set to protect my academy's reputation as I had only met you for mere minutes. I took a stance that I see was not needed in retrospect. Emotion, inexperience, and naivety were culpable for your first interview not anger and a need to lash out at any manner of perceived slights."

Harry felt proud her opinion of him had changed. She'd mentioned it when discussing whether he would take Anna Fairway as his date but he valued Lacroix's opinion. Hearing her honest feedback reflect on him positively was comforting.

"I still stand by my advice to consider getting an agent. They would help you and take a lot of the pressure off. They would also find financial opportunities for you and that alone might be something for you to consider. Many will work on a commission-only basis and you wouldn't have to worry about needlessly depleting your own finances."

Harry had been mulling the idea of an agent over already. It could help but he felt it could wait. He had one more media availability that was required, the Yule Ball, and it shouldn't be that large of an issue. Most of the questions will probably focus on his date. He didn't want to devote any of his already limited time away from his studies. Enforcing his emancipation and learning magic were his top priorities. The dance lessons killed all of his free time. After the Yule Ball, he could spend some time considering it.

"Thanks for all this Madame. I really do appreciate it."

She smiled warmly in return at his genuine thanks being expressed.

"I thought you might want to see these before you chose my date and now that you have.. Have you decided?

The dance sessions with Hannah were going really well. He was leading and his movements were smooth and natural. They'd done well adding in hesitations, though at first that hadn't gone too well. Learning to pause the routine so you don't crash into others on the dance floor wasn't an issue he'd thought. Just stop and move around them to continue. No, nothing is quite that simple. He had to learn how to 'hesitate' in time, un deux trois un deux trois un deux trois. It hadn't been that bad really, he just had to be more aware of his surroundings. If only the infernal first three prime numbers were not always being repeated...

Next he'd spent time learning to deviate from the standard form, under-arm spins being the first move extended to beyond the basic waltz box step. Again, he had to learn the perfect motions and practice it repeatedly in time, un deux trois un deux trois. Now that he had the basic pattern mastered they were branching into words he couldn't even pronounce properly. There was something called the Flecker? Feleckerl? Fecklerel?

He had no idea. There at least a few types of ways to Whisk: Back Whisk, Front Whisk, Left Whisk Fallaway Whisk. It was a mistake to sarcastically ask 'how many Whisks are there?'. He'd not progressed to them all yet… Harry had even learned there was a new way to count: Un deux trois could be inflicted upon him in new varied forms. Un et deux et trois et being the longest form.

Un deux et trois seemed to be the second most frequent. It was starting to get bloody complicated. Regardless, his skills were progressing very quickly and he was eager to find out who his partner would be. Apparently, he would be progressing to a choreographed first dance soon. He just had to learn to perfect all the moves and then blend them.

"I've rather hesitantly decided."

Harry could feel her smirk, even though none adorned her face, she was drawing it out on purpose! This wasn't the second time he'd tried asking. He'd hinted quite a few times that he wanted to know and she enjoyed ignoring it he was sure.

"I still fear it will be more trouble than it's worth but my instincts are telling me the two of you could do well together, even if it is one evening together. It's not the conservative option but I think you can handle it."

Was she purposefully pulling a Dumbledore?

"I'll have to give you some background information so you can understand what you would be getting involved in and whether you wished to risk it."

Oh no! She was trolling him! She knew he just wanted to know her name!

Harry suppressed a groan.

He could see the mirth in her eyes.

She was enjoying this entirely too much.

"Imagine the Malfoy family. A family that is politically powerful and seems to have their fingers everywhere. They have pull at the top of Ministers office, friends that are department heads, extensive business holdings, and know how to use their wealth and power."

Harry felt some of the irritation slide away. Perhaps this was more involved than just a silly dance partner.

"Unlike the Malfoy family, they hold all their power legitimately. They don't lean on their connection to another family for an iota of credence. They are the power behind the scenes and their family is bred for their place in life. Politically savvy, titans in the business world, and very dangerous to cross. They've been powerful for centuries and are as ambitious as they are cunning. Generations of building have led them to where they are and the current implementations are progressive and patrician alike."

She held his full attention as she waxed on.

"They are not strength is not just found in a single country but in three: Germany, Russia, and Bulgaria. The current Head of the family, and his Lady, have three sons and two daughters. One son to operate in each country and a daughter to help coordinate while working with the Head of the family. They tie together their business and political interest across all three regions together to create an immensely influential family."

Holy hell what was she getting him involved in? It sounded like the muggle mafia.

"The second daughter is the youngest of the five, and she is not totally like her older siblings. Some would say a disappointment, the black sheep, the one they try and let you forget about. Though, the apple didn't fall far from the tree. Beautiful yet shy, confident yet brittle, effervescent yet eclectic. One who pursues her dreams against her family's wishes. Derided for her decisions and labelled a disappointment, the black sheep. Only her unimportance as the fifth, accidental, child allows her to be who she is: an unneeded disappointment."

Madame Lacroix let her words hang heavy. She had to ensure Harry knew what he may be getting involved in. The two could be just what the other needs for an evening. For her a celebrity date showing there is potential for aiding her family's aspirations. For him a date of beauty, grace and one that was taught to handle the limelight at such events. Both positioned to help one another, even just for a single evening. The social pressures on each of them could break them apart before they have a chance. This wouldn't be a simple single night of dancing if he went for it.

"I can allow you to choose. Anna is the safe easy choice. A beautiful unheralded English dancer. A single night out with you and a favour for her family. The second is fraught with politics and intrigue. It wouldn't be simple, she is a lovely girl, but getting involved with that family complicates things."

Harry nodded. He really appreciated that she was levelling with him. Per their agreement she could have just assigned him this other girl and never told him her family's backstory. How had she said so much and still kept the name from him?

"Is it possible to meet her?" Harry inquired. He could give her a chance. He was trusting of his dance tutor and if she thought they could be good together he could at least deign to meet her. The last thing he needed was to upset a powerful family. He already had a Dark Lord after him.

"We don't meet on Saturday's because I spend my day tutoring Natalia. She is a day student at Durmstrang and spends her weekends practising ballet here. She's here every morning before attending school and completes her academic work during the evenings so she can spend her weekends here. One of my most promising students. Come tomorrow at six."

She stood, indicating the conversation was now over, and Harry thanked her again for the evening before heading out. He walked back to the entry and apparated back to the Chamber. It had taken him just a couple tries to be proficient at it. The book was rather clear in its directions on how to do it. Intend to move yourself to the destination, will yourself and power it with your magic. Willpower was tertiary, Magical power and intent were the two major components. Enough power to get all of yourself to the destination and the clear intent of what you wanted.

Creativity was useful for those who are well-practised in the art, reducing noise, affecting how you appear. Willpower was mostly used as focusing your every facet of your being and magic to ensure complete complicity in the feat.

Portkey's were still an issue, he could make them but he wasn't sure how they were detected. Even in Salazar's time portkey usage was scrutinized. The ability to move objects or people against their will was too dangerous to leave uncontrolled. Portkeying an enemy from a marketplace into certain death was something that couldn't be tolerated. They were traceable and had a more distinct magical residue that could be more easily tracked. At the World Cup, the portkey usage was tightly controlled.

Harry moved back to the desk looking for the black terror. He wasn't surprised to find her curled up in a jacket he'd left on his chair. Harry moved in and picked up the jacket carefully so he wouldn't wake the tiny dragon. Gingerly he picked her up and began patting her. He wasn't successful in his quest to keep the dragon asleep. It woke as she began purring as his hands worked its way along her body.

Cuddles lifted her head up and yawned shooting out a small fireball that burned out immediately in front of her head. She began stretching out as she woke herself up. She hopped up and flew off him giving a deafening roar, well deafening if you measured it in levels of cuteness. The little lady was still a dragon, hard scales, sharp claws, spiked tail, and spewed real dragon fire and yet it was also absolutely adorable. It acted like it was still a massive hulking beast when it was miniature. Harry watched her fly around the room; she knew when Harry returned Dobby provided a snack.

Dobby seemed to take pleasure in doing his work silent and unseen. The plates appeared and Cuddles swooped down to char her meat. She seemed to have an instinctive love of blasting her food with fire. He watched his pet dragon devour its food.

While eating, Harry was startled by a fiery burst. Far brighter and larger than he'd associated with his horntail. He grasped his wand and looked up to see the majestic phoenix Fawkes land on the far side of his desk with a letter clutched in its talons.

Cuddles reared and jumped between Harry and the phoenix. She screeched a warning and reared herself to full height ready to spew fire and protect her wizard. Harry could make out the script on the page. Only one wizard could have written his name like that and used this majestic creature to deliver a letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, real life happened. I'm surprised it's just 10 days between chapters it feels like a month! Committing to make the story longer and more fleshed out, added some issues. I've spent some time thinking it over and there are no gaping holes but I've just had to adjust things and wrap my head around it.
> 
> Couple reviewers have pointed out a plot issue that were intentional. Nice work catching them.
> 
> Edit: Regarding my comment about not returning and fixing previous chapters - I now have a beta for this task, thanks to Haphne24.
> 
> On another note I've seen a few follows, favs, reviews from authors I recognize from reading their works and that is really cool! Thanks again everyone for reading and reviewing. There has been some great feedback that has been helpful!
> 
> The goal remains the same:
> 
> 1\. Enjoy writing - a new hobby.
> 
> 2\. Become better at said new hobby.
> 
> I'm enjoying writing and I believe I'm getting better. I feel I'm doing good work towards both and I'll continue doing just that.
> 
> See ya next chapter.


	8. Words Have Power

Harry looked at the magical creature. He mused to himself he had three of the truly magical creatures now in the chamber: a dragon, a dead basilisk, and now a phoenix. He had just learned about portkeys and wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to try such a thing. For his own safety, he wasn't taking chances. He wasn't aware the letter took this long to be delivered because Fawkes refused to take anything charmed to Harry. Harry drew his wand and cast the same spell he'd used thinking it would make Cuddles into an inert substance. Any magic on the model should have been cancelled. He watched his spell hit the letter. None should be able to remain now if he understood the theory correctly. Parchment was used in the wizarding world because it could be a catalyst for spells, muggle paper could not.

Harry reached out to his dragon and ran his hand along her body, trying to calm her down with physical affection. He thought she might just be trying to protect her territory from the larger bird. She settled under his touch and Harry, who was now standing, reached forward with his other hand to stroke Fawke's plumage. The bird trilled at him with affection. When he was sure they were content, he picked up Cuddles and with his free hand he took the letter Fawkes was offering him. He felt very anxious. He'd been so busy he forgot he'd have to go back to Hogwarts for the Yule Ball.

He'd have to interact with people that approached him. He figured he'd be somewhat sheltered being a champion but not totally. In fact, he'd more than likely have to talk to the professors he'd disparaged in his most recent interview. He wondered if that is why the headmaster had sent him a letter now. Sam had requested an interview and may have sent him a pre-release copy of the article like she had to him earlier today.

Did he want to deal with this now or leave it until the morning? He knew that was a futile question. Curiosity wouldn't let him sleep; he decided to open it.

_Dear Harry,_

_My boy, it is long past time for your return to Hogwarts. As you are legally a minor, you do not have the ability to withdraw yourself from Hogwarts. While you have missed time, it is not too late to return and make up for your missed work. I dare say Ms Granger would be more than willing to assist in this endeavour. Further assistance can be arranged with the professors as required._

_You've made your point and expressed your displeasure. It is time to put aside childish things and return where you belong. To where your parents enrolled you as a newborn and where they would have wanted you to learn just like they did._

_I have received a copy of the article Samantha Roberts has written and sent back a confirmation that you would not do such a thing. Though she is generally a good reporter, even journalists can be fooled by polyjuice. A simple note confirming my story will put an end to the falsified interview._

_With the Yule break upcoming, we can arrange a visit with last year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and Snuffles. After the Yule Ball, I've arranged for you to spend the rest of your holidays at the Burrow. The Weasley family would be more than happy to entertain Remus and Snuffles on more than one occasion._

_Your friends will assist with the tournament and we will foil the plans of whoever placed you in the tournament._

_Looking forward to seeing your return,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Unbridled fury engulfed him in righteous anger as he read the letter further and further.

How dare he dictate Harry's life! How dare he treat him like a child!

As Harry read the letter, Cuddles had begun growling deeper and was seething. She matched her wizard's mood and glared at the larger bird of fire. Fawkes trilled calming notes to keep the young wizard calm and his magical creature calm. It did cool him off from being well beyond his boiling point but he was still steaming. His emotions were out of control. He couldn't get upset at the venerable old man if doing so immediately proved his words true. He had to calm himself. He immediately began running through his occlumency exercises.

Simultaneously, he controlled his breathing with long deep breaths. He could feel his heart rate dropping, the pounding of veins subsiding. How was he to respond and handle the powerful wizard and politician? One that hadn't treated him anything close to an equal.

Not only did he need to respond to the letter he would also be seeing him shortly. The Headmaster had tried to appeal to two things - his former authority over him, as his magical guardian, as well as his friends and family.

First, he would pen his letter to Samantha. Explaining he was aware of Dumbledore's attempt to claim it was a false letter and reassuring her it was not. He was fine with her printing it. He already felt less guilty for the inadvertent shot at the faculty of Hogwarts. They'd done nothing for him and now there was not a snowball's chance in hell that he would return to Hogwarts. He'd say hell would freeze over first but wondered if there was magic strong enough to keep ice frozen even in Tartarus. Could an enchanted snowball actually have a chance in hell? Damn, he needed to learn some wizarding idioms.

Harry stopped and let his eyes follow Cuddles. It had taken off into the air and was circling the desk. Fawkes was watching Cuddles intently. Suddenly, Cuddles dove straight towards the larger phoenix and briefly spewed a small torrent of fire. The short line of flames raced toward the bird, who squawked, as he had to lift off the desk. Every item on the desk already had flame retardant spells on them so he was sure it was fine. Nonetheless, his eyes were still glued to make sure his spells held.

Movement in the corner of his field of vision brought him back to watching the two powerful magical creatures into the centre of his field of view. Cuddles was shooting flames at the phoenix that was dodging and diving in the office. Cuddles had a clear advantage, being smaller and finding it easier to move in the very limited air space. Fawkes was cornered now. Harry could feel the smugness of his dragon. It had the larger bird trapped right where she wanted him. She was still a dominate apex predator that could entrap a creature Harry once knew to be a myth.

With the legendary magical bird out of the real estate, Cuddles took in a deep breath and unleashed hellfire. Fawkes answer to the entrapment was to flame flash. He appeared by the door exiting into the hallway, gave an amused trill and took off out the door. The Horntail was irritated at losing its prey just as it went in for the kill and flew off after the larger bird. Harry's earlier irate mood was now gone as he was laughing at the actions of his docile dragon and the headmaster's familiar.

He looked back down at the letter and noticed that it hadn't escaped a little errant fire. The bottom edge had been caught and burned up the paper all the way to the Headmaster's name. Cuddles fire burning even just the man's name made him grin further. He was growing to love that mischievous monster.

He wasn't going to let his emotions dictate a response to him. He was going to use his burgeoning intellect to pen a response back.

_Dear Headmaster,_

Yes, give him a title, not a name. Don't even deal with him familiarly.

_Thank you for your concerns about my education. As I do not have a magical guardian..._

No, he couldn't draw attention to his magical emancipation. He was hoping to take advantage of distractions and keep attention off of it. He didn't know if there was a way to block his legal emancipation so he wouldn't take any chances.

Grabbing a new parchment he began the letter again:

_Headmaster,_

_Thank you for the concerns about my education. I will not be returning to Hogwarts prior to the Yule Ball and will not be making any decisions about a return to Hogwarts until after it concludes. A decision will be made on my education before the resumption of classes in the new year._

How was he going to answer the friends and family section? As tempting as it would be to visit the Burrow, he couldn't get sucked back under Dumbledore's thumb.

How would he get away and keep up with the rituals? If he didn't keep to the schedule he had no idea what kind of ill effects it could have on him. There must be a reason for doing them so quickly. There was a little over twenty-seven weeks away from the end of the final task. Even continuing at just two rituals a week, he'd hit the seven sets of seven rituals before the tournament's end.

He had to stay away from Dumbledore's control but he could surprise pop into the Burrow. Now that he thought about it seeing Remus and Sirius would be nice. Being isolated in the Chamber of Secrets was giving him a different perspective. Now that he was removed from the situation and had time to dwell on it, the anger and hurt that immediately follow the selection, he could see how he'd not reacted well. Not everyone was getting off so easily though. Ron was still a jealous git in his mind and he'd be careful about that friendship going forward. Hermione had just tried to stay out of the spat between her two good friends. Sirius and Remus might actually have good reasons for their actions. Once he got over his initial anger, he realized he'd overreacted. Before accepting them, he would analyze and think critically.

_I must decline the generous invitation to stay at the Burrow for the remainder of the holidays. I have other commitments that are already scheduled and will interfere with the kind offer. I would welcome the chance to visit and it would be great to see Professor Lupin and his lovable stray, Snuffles. As for my friendships, I have total confidence any real friendships I have made will not fall apart after such a short absence._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

With his letter written, he went to track down his errant dragon and Fawkes. Harry made his way out to the main hallway and then proceeded through the exit from the private chambers into the hall containing the basilisk corpse.

He felt the letter would do well. It would irritate Dumbledore to no end and that was a moral victory all on its own. He had no issues getting around now that he could apparate. If he used it regularly he could get into trouble for not having a license. Another letter to Madame Bones might be required. That was two letters to write before he retired tonight. It was okay he was going to bed a little later than he normally did after dance lessons. He'd heard about his potential date and was having trouble keeping from being excited to meet this black sheep.

Natalia… Lacroix had slipped her name in there. She probably knew Krum given the importance of her family in Bulgaria. Was it a good idea to get acquainted with such a family? He was already blindly following Salazar Slytherin's path for him. Sometimes it felt like a real kick to the family jewels to not have parents. They were supposed to teach him these things and guide his upbringing.

Instead, he was trying to learn as he went along and finding out there was a whole lot more to the world than Hogwarts. He'd meet the girl then decide. Hannah and Anna were very pleasant girls and easy to talk to now that he was comfortable around them. Being homeschooled they were shy and he had to initiate conversations with them. Normally, he was the shy one that people started conversations with.

Harry arrived into the main chamber and watched in fascination as the two magical creatures chased each other. Cuddles blasting out fire and using its smaller frame to outmanoeuvre the larger faster phoenix. It reminded Harry of World War II footage of plane dog fights. One plane chasing after another doing loops and dives to get strafing runs at the other. The Hungarian Horntail was trying to tag Fawkes with fireballs while the majestic bird kept trying to initiate contact with the smaller dragon. Harry watched as they flew around after each other ignorant of his presence. He slowly sauntered his way towards the middle of the Chamber of Secrets. Cuddles spotted him first and changed directions dive-bombing him. She came in at full speed pulling up just in time to clutch his shoulder with her talons and forcefully perch on his shoulder. Fawkes was trilling gayly, having enjoyed the flying match against the little dragon. He landed in front of Harry on the ground in a pleasant mood.

"Would you mind taking this back to the headmaster whenever you leave?" Harry asked, putting forth the sealed envelope containing his reply.

Fawkes dipped his head and jumped back into the air gently taking it with his talon.

Cuddles shrieked in his ear and let forth its mighty (cute) roar. She fell off his shoulder into a dive to pick up airspeed quickly. Fawkes took off and Harry sat back and watched his black beasty try and turn his letter into ashes while Fawkes used his size and speed to keep it safe. He stayed, for some time, watching the ariel dynamics before the lateness of the hour began catching up to him. He completed his final task of the evening sending Hedwig off with two letters before heading into bed.

x-x-x-x-x-x

The next day, began as most every day seemed to: physical training, magical training, studying magic, and lots of eating. He'd just finished dinner when he realized he had received letters. Hedwig hated staying in the Chamber; he guessed it was the lack of airflow, lack of hunting grounds, and no natural light. She occasionally came to sleep and Dobby always had rashers of bacon ready for her when she was around. Hedwig must have stopped in while he was busy earlier as he hadn't noticed the mail being returned. He opened the first one thinking it was a reply from Director Bones. Upon opening the envelope, he found it was indeed the case. Minor's are normally not allowed to apply for apparition testing and being emancipated magically would not be enough to apply for one. She was kind enough to inform him it was a 50 galleon fine for apparating without a license with no escalation for subsequent occurrences.

The next letter was from Samantha and she had sent a curt reply that she was well aware Dumbledore's claims were false. They were together over an hour and he had not ingested anything other than drinks from the establishment. She had submitted it for printing and it would be in today's paper.

With those two taken care of, he could concentrate on the one he needed to write next. He realized that he should contact Hogwarts to find out more information on the actual Yule Ball. Other than the fact there was a ball on the 25th, he had no clue as to the actual itinerary.

_Dear Professor McGonagall,_

_I am writing to inquire about the Yule Ball. As the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, I trust you are well aware of the plans for the event. The only information I have been made informed of so far is the day of the Yule Ball, that I require a date, that the Champions are the guests of honour, and we will be opening the dance._

_I was hoping you would be able to tell me what time festivities begin and the appropriate time to arrive with my date. As I was raised in the muggle world, I am hoping you can educate me on any important traditions for such an event. If you are not the correct person to contact about the Yule Ball, please provide me with the name of whom I should contact. I have instructed Hedwig to await a response. Alternatively, Fawkes is capable of delivering mail to me._

_Respectfully,_

_Harry Potter_

He knew he could ask Lacroix, but thought checking with two sources wouldn't hurt. Today, he had the physical rejuvenation, his tenth ritual and second in the set. If the routine kept up, he should be completing his fifteenth ritual on December twenty-second three days prior to the Yule Ball. Harry felt it was impossible to tell the difference between the natural increase he'd received from his daily training and anything the rituals may have added.

He no longer was sore in the mornings from dance nor from his morning exercises. He'd been physically developing and was curious to see how much the rituals would affect him. The next few sets of physical and magical rituals should be more noticeable. His mind felt like it would be difficult to find differences in.

However, that wasn't overly important now. He was going to go to the Lacroix Ballet Academy a little early. Madame Lacroix had said she tutors his perspective date today and he didn't think being a little early would hurt.

Extricating a burrowed up Cuddles from his lap was always a precarious proposition. Transporting a dragon without waking it had become a critical life skill he'd had to develop quickly. She disliked being awoken by others just as much as Harry always had. Whereas a grump, Harry couldn't spew fireballs his grumpy gremlin could.

With a successful transport operation, Harry quietly exited the office and moved to the large hall. He still felt more comfortable apparating from a more open space. He was slightly disconcerted that he'd accidentally be recomposed in a chair or bookshelf. He knew magic was supposed to prevent such things and yet he still walked to the open area. Though it may be an attempt at trying to convince himself it was the space issue and not that the little dragon may get upset with him if he rudely made loud popping noises as he left and entered the study. He reassured himself that he was the master and not the other way around.

Harry left the chamber with a pop and arrived in the ballet academy entry point. He quickly made his way to the main studio area where he always saw the dancers practice. As he moved closer to the entry, he could see Lacroix in the position she was always perched in.

He followed her gaze to the ballerina that was gracefully moving. She had brown hair that was currently put up out of the way. She was taller than he expected, maybe five foot six or seven. Thin, but it was a good thin, the way she moved it was obvious she was strong for her size. Flawlessly, she moved around with her long slender legs, swooping arms, and a gracile neck.

Harry didn't breathe as he drew in the vision of beauty: soft blue eyes, willowy eyebrows, an oval face, thin lips, and a nose that seemed to perfectly accentuate the rest of her features. Her face showed she was completely concentrated on performing her task. Her arms flowed beautifully from position to position, her legs dexterously moved synchronically with her body.

He was mesmerized watching her glide around with perfect precision. She floated around the room with Harry's eyes never failing to follow her form. He had no idea if she was really good from a technical point but it was impossible to miss how beautifully she moved.

Harry didn't notice when Lacroix stopped looking at the ballerina and started watching his reaction to her. She knew Natalia was gorgeous with a distinct classical elegance to her. The young woman was truly a wonderful dancer for her age. She would be impossible for any straight fourteen years old to not take notice of.

Harry eventually stopped doing his statue impression. How long he stood there, transfixed, he couldn't say. Bloody hell! He was thankful she had been totally concentrated on her movements to notice him gaping at her like an idiot. What else was he to do when he such an infusion of elegance, beauty and grace?

Harry tried to act casual. He was about to meet this dancing goddess and he was utterly unsettled. Thankfully he had time to get himself partially under control. Who could blame him for being so nervous? This impossibly good looking young woman might just be his date for an evening. Shortly, he would be touching her body with his, as they moved together in time to the music. Un deux trois un deux trois.

That may be the first time he as thankful for those three blasted banalities. Thinking them brought his focus off the perfection moving in front of him.

Un deux trois. Yes, this could work. Un deux et trois. Heh! He could even count the odd changes Lacroix had been using to keep the more complicated movements in time.

Un deux et trois. Good. good. Just a few more to calm his rapid heart rate.

Un et deux et trois. He breathed deeply controlling his breathing with long slow punctuated breaths. Un deux trois.

This was workable. Just keep focused on the lovely french numbers and not the lovely young ballerina.

Damnit.

He closed his eyes, that should help, right?

Focus on the French. Un deux trois. Un deux trois.

Harry opened his eyes. Bollocks.

The lesson had ended when he was trying to calm down and play it cool. They were both looking at him. Lacroix with her smugness and the brown-haired beauty had her blue eyes focused on him.

Green met blue and Harry couldn't help it. He could feel the warmth spreading to his skin. He was blushing!

He began counting again furiously.

Un deux trois, un deux trois, un deux trois...

He could do this! If he could face down a petrifying basilisk he could face down a pretty beauty.

"Harry, this is Natalia Pavlova." Madame Lacroix made an unnecessary gesture to reinforce the fact she was introducing the only other person in the room.

"Natalia, this is Harry Potter."

Harry stood there like an idiot when he was introduced. Natalia didn't.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Potter." She said, with a curtsey.

"Nice to meet you too Miss Pavlova. Please call me Ha- Harry." The right words actually came out of his mouth!

Lacroix was looking at him oddly. Why? He could see Lacroix was pretty well stifling giggles.

Natalia hadn't seemed to notice at all; she was still watching him.

"Natalia then, please."

Harry had enough brainpower to stop his embarrassment long enough to remember to gently grasp her hand and kiss it. Was he supposed to have done that first?

"Well, how about we move onto the reason you're both here."

Natalia spun on the spot and.. swam? She didn't walk, the word couldn't convey the fluidity of her movements.

Harry shivered a little. He saw the look Lacroix gave him before she was back in dance instructor mode.

"Begin with the basic waltz," she commanded to the two of them.

Harry took a calming breath before getting into his dance posture. Chest lifted, shoulders back, neck extended, a minor arch in his back and he brought his arms up slowly towards the proper positioning they'd find with Natalia.

With practised ease, he moved towards her and joined one hand with hers. The second taking its position on her body. He moved close, as their hands connected, and then he heard the counting.

Lacroix began the repetitive chanting in time with the music. When had she turned that on?

"Un." Left foot forward, focus on the hip movement.

"Deux" move right foot diagonally and began the rise to his toes.

"Trois" complete the rise and slide left foot over while moving the correct side of the chest up.

"Un" He began the opposite motions to the first set to complete the box step.

"Deux" He was really doing it.

"Trois" He stopped focusing on the movements he knew by heart.

"Un" Natalia… what a dance partner.

"Deux" Hannah was a good dancer.

"Trois" Hannah's older sister was a better dancer.

"Un" This young woman in front of him was superb.

"Deux" She must be bleeding off some of her skill.

"Trois" It was so easy to move in time with her.

Harry didn't wait. Lacroix had him practising, routines with Anna and Hannah. He went with it starting one of the routines he had been taught.

Hesitation Change, un deux trois un deux trois.

Fallaway Reverse Slip Pivot un deux et trois.

The movements came so easily now.

Double Reverse Spin un deux trois et.

How great would she look with her lustrous brown hair twirling as he spun her?

Open Telemark un deux trois.

Chasse from Promenade Position un deux et trois.

She moved so flawlessly. Did she know the routine or was she just that good?

Natural Spin Turn un deux trois un deux trois.

There was dancing with Hannah.

Turning Lock, left, to Promenade Position un et deux trois.

There was dancing with Anna.

Chasse from Promenade Position un deux et trois.

There was even dancing with Lacroix.

Hesitation Change, un deux trois un deux trois.

None of those compared to dancing with Natalia Pavlova.

Fallaway Reverse Slip Pivot un deux et trois.

Enticing, elegant, and oh so silky smooth.

Double Reverse Spin un deux trois et.

How could he make a rational decision to pick now?

Open Telemark un deux trois.

He was screwed.

Chasse from Promenade Position un deux et trois.

She was perfection personified: her arched back, pushed up chest, and long languid neck.

Natural Spin Turn un deux trois un deux trois.

Turning Lock, left, to Promenade Position un et deux trois.

Natalia… at least he wasn't making a fool of himself now.

Chasse from Promenade Position un deux et trois.

He'd been through that routine twice now. He began to cycle through the routines he had learned already. There was a spark here, that he didn't have with the other girls. The Fairways were lovely girls, but the young woman in his arms now was entirely something else. He wasn't sure how to describe it. Hermione had been a sister. Alicia, Angelina, and Katie were teammates. He'd seen his three chaser teammates in various states, of less than fully dressed, and he had liked that, yet this was set apart from all his previous experiences.

He'd crushed on Cho Chang. He didn't know what the word was for his thoughts on this young woman. They continued to move with fantastic fusion until Lacroix stopped them. How long they had danced for he didn't know.

"Natalia, why don't you get cleaned up? You've had a long day, then come to my office."

The blue-eyed beauty nodded and moved towards the change rooms.

The Madame signalled him to follow and they made the same post-dance instruction walk. Arriving at her office, she conjured the Lacroix Ballet Academy chalices and filled them with cold clear water. This time there were three instead of the usual two.

"Quite the enchanting young lady, isn't she?" Harry didn't both looking up to see the self-satisfied grin on the aged dance instructors face. Even though it wasn't possible, he could hear it.

"You danced wonderfully tonight. You won't be able to practice together during the weekdays, while she is still in classes. Anna and Hannah will continue assisting in your progress. I expect you'll give them an appropriate Yule gift." Harry had looked up and caught the stern visage that accompanied the suggestion of purchasing a gift to thank his most frequent dance partners. He nodded, not needing to vocalize, he understood.

"From the way you reacted to Miss Pavlova, I trust you'll be taking her over Miss Fairway?" There was a slightly challenging tone there.

Would he take her? He'd certainly feel like he'd stolen a dance with the most amazing girl he'd ever met. He was learning that he couldn't let his emotions guide him even if they were leading him towards the very tempting Natalia. Goodness, even thinking her name gave him mental shivers. How could her name do that to him?

"As much as my body is telling me to agree with you I've.. not decided yet… I- I think… I think I need to get to know her? I have enough on my plate and can't add any more problems."

"A rather mature position to take," she said as she sipped water.

"How do you plan on accomplishing it?" She arched a challenging eyebrow at him.

"I don't have much experience with girls. I have one female friend and some female teammates. That's pretty much all my experience. What do you do?

It was times like these that broke the visage of the woman. She felt a need to help such a genuinely kind young man. She'd done so poorly with her own son and that weighed on her.

"You become friends first. You spend some time together and get to know one another; there's no fancy formula required."

Harry inclined his head. Any response was cut off by the presence of Natalia entering the office through the closed door. She'd changed out of her dance attire into dark blue denim jeans and a pullover hooded sweater. It was a rather thin sweater and hugged her body magnificently.

Un deux trois, un deux trois. Harry needed a thought to distract him from continuing to notice her figure. It was too alluring.

"As I had discussed with you, Natalia, Harry has been receiving dance instruction and requires a date for the Triwizard Tournament's Yule Ball. I had thought to introduce the two of you and see if you were interested in acquainting yourselves."

Natalia hadn't done any more than glance at Harry since she entered and sat in the chair beside him. She continued to focus on Madame Lacroix.

"Harry just had the idea it would be best to get to know one another before making a decision. For two persons of your statuses, I trust you understand the delicacy of the decision."

Lacroix turned her attention fully back to Harry who was trying to casually drink his water and not make a fool of himself.

"Natalia knows I do not involve myself in the politics nor business of my clients and patrons. Though I am introducing you, I will not do anything further. From here it is up to the two of you to decide. If either chooses not to, it will not offend me. Harry will escort Anna Fairway if the two of you do not attend together."

Natalia acknowledged Lacroix with a simple head bob, again not speaking.

"Alright," Harry responded slowly.

"I'll be locking up the studio in twenty minutes, please excuse yourselves as I have some work to finish before I can retire for the night."

There was a stark shift Lacroix's demeanour once Natalia had entered the room. She had gone back to the woman he'd met the first time he came here. He got up out of his chair and made to leave. As he opened the door, he remembered chivalry. He opened the door and held it for her. She moved through it, without thanking him, and made her way towards the entrance.

She grabbed a small bag and, if he saw correctly, tucked her wand up her right arm sleeve. Harry followed her into the room.

She didn't say anything, she trained her blue eyes onto him and waited.

Harry thought she must be waiting for him.

"Would you like to, uh, maybe, erm, do something together?" He mentally berated himself for sounding unconfident. He'd just danced with her, he should be able to talk to her. Screw his nerves and raging hormones.

"Sure," she replied quietly.

Merlin, she wasn't making it easy on him.

The former Gryffindor bucked up his courage and went for it again.

"I'm not very familiar with this kind of thing. Have you eaten?"

"I just had my post-practice snack," her voice was still soft and hard to hear.

What the ruddy hell else did people do? He didn't grow up making friends and having playdates. Dudley beat up kids, watched telly and played with toys… none of those were anything the immaculate young woman in front of him would consider doing. He tried to think what the upper years did at Hogwarts. Broom closets were what he always heard about. That wasn't going to help him now. Some went flying, others went to that ridiculous tea shop called Puddlefoots? And what else?!

"Did you want to go for a walk?" He asked hesitantly. He remembered Fred and George teasing Percy for going for a long walk around the lake with some Ravenclaw girl.

He realized he was following a relationship idea from that prat Percy! His stomach dropped.

"Sure, where?"

Did she agree? His stomach did a u-turn!

Maybe he'd kiss Percy if this worked out!

Full stop. Never think such thoughts again!

"I've not seen much of the magical world, do you have any ideas?"

She looked at him oddly for a second before she shook her head.

Harry knew of the park in near the Dursleys. That would go well. Walk around his relatives' neighbourhood. Maybe stop in for some tea so could tell her how wonderful he is? He suppressed a snort at such a ludicrous thought.

Parks? Had he ever been to any other parks?

"Hyde Park?" He was an Englishman. He knew of that park at least.

"Sure"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

After working out the problem of how to travel there Harry did something he probably shouldn't have, tandem apparition. The book warned it would take more power and everything was less forgiving about bringing a second person along. He'd been successful though and wouldn't be sharing with anyone he'd just done that. She was now walking to his left. Her left hand was in her sweater pocket and her right hand was dangling at her side.

Harry decided to mirror her actions. They'd been walking for about fifteen steps and neither of them had said a word. There were muggles around, going about their business, so all was not quiet. She meandered close enough that their hands had accidentally touched once and they'd both pulled away from the content like they'd touched a hot stove burner.

They were still walking and not talking. What was he supposed to ask?

The dreaded counting started. Every time he went for a run and his thoughts subconsciously went hearing Lacroix's voice counting.

Left foot forward. Un.

Right foot forward. Deux.

Left foot forward. Trois.

Wouldn't it make sense to do it with the et?

Right foot forward. Un.

Left foot forward. Et.

Yeah, this pattern was better. Wait, wasn't he walking beside one of, if not the, most gorgeous young women he'd ever been in contact with? Why was he thinking of ways to improve the monotonous french counting of his steps? He should be talking to this young lady!

What to lead off with?

"You dance really well."

Good start! Everyone liked being complimented. Or was it lame?

"Thanks."

She didn't look at him when she gave her one-worded response; he noticed this seemed to be her standard operating procedure.

Why was she trying to make this as difficult on him as possible? Could she not have a single shred of mercy for his poor tortured soul?

"Sorry, I'm not very good at this."

She actually looked at him this time. She didn't speak but maybe this was an improvement?

"I haven't ever gone on a date before," He spoke again and chanced a meeting of their eyes. He thought hers might have widened slightly.

"I was told it's good to try and be friends first?" Harry trailed off not really sure what else to say. He didn't want to embarrass himself further. He was fourteen and hadn't even dated or kissed a girl yet.

"I haven't either." She whispered in response.

She was so cute when she was shy. Did she always have to be that way though?

Wait. Did she just say she hadn't either? Harry stopped and his sudden action had her turn to look at him directly.

"Really? But your, your... you're so beautiful!" He was so surprised that he blurted out his thought.

It was hard to see because it was twilight but Harry thought she might have mirrored his blush.

"Really?" She replied in the same whispered voice.

The two resumed walking and the only sound they made was from their feet making contact with the pathway.

"What do we do now then?" Harry asked. Maybe she had an idea of what to do. Lacroix said she was the youngest girl in her family. Her brothers and sisters must have given her some ideas.

"I don't know."

Apparently not. Harry tried to think of ideas for how you got to know someone.

"Maybe we should take turns asking a question?" Harry wondered aloud.

"What kind?" She said while looking out across the park.

"Any kind? If you don't feel like answering, you can pass," Harry shrugged back in response as he watched her mull over his idea.

"Okay."

"Did you want to go first?" It was polite to let the lady go first after all.

She inclined her head and continued her forward motion. After a half dozen steps, she asked the first question.

"Why do you want to get to know me?"

Harry wasn't shrewd enough at reading teenage girls to see the crux of the question. He answered the surface question for exactly what it was.

"I made a deal with Madame Lacroix and part of that deal was that she would pick a date for me... I- I was supposed to go with Anna. Then Lacroix decided to introduce us. I don't know you and we're supposed to spend a whole evening together. One that is going to be rather uncomfortable enough without not knowing my date at all... I thought it just made sense that I should try and get to know you a little first."

The words flowed out of his mouth easily. Harry's lack of emotional intelligence was as subtle as a blunt force object smashing you in the teeth. Lacroix had said to try and be friends so he would treat her like he would have Ron or Hermione.

Crap. Now he had to think of a question. Should he just ask her favourite color? Seems like a stupid follow up to her question. This was a great opportunity to make her use more than a few words!

But what to ask? Something plain that could be interesting would do.

"What is Durmstrang like?" He stopped looking at at his surroundings and watched her face as he asked her.

She kept looking to the scenery as they walked, even when answering. "Cold, hard, and foreboding. Warm by the fireplaces. It's packed full of students and easy to get lost in. Far more rigidly designed for functionality than Hogwarts and Beauxbatons."

She used more words this time, maybe she'd use full sentences next question!

The two continued walking with no words exchanged while Harry awaited her next question. He'd left it wide open to ask anything and he was nervous she could ask about topics he didn't want to talk about.

It seemed like she really wanted to ask something but couldn't work herself up to do it. She'd started lowering her jaw and even opened her mouth twice but closed it tight before speaking. They walked side by side in silence. Harry debated offering to ask the next question but thought he'd wait longer. It was awkward but weird not enough to make him speak. He didn't have to wait much longer for her to ask thankfully.

"Do y- you l- like m- me or just my, my name?" She looked at him and watched him closely this time. He could see agitated anticipation but nothing more. She had a mousy look in her eyes like she was expecting the same disappointing answer she always did. The same way he felt when people like Colin Creevey came up to him wanting a photo and autograph. A resignation that she already knew the answer and was bracing herself for it.

Perhaps if he knew what to look for he would have seen it.

It seemed like an odd question to him. He'd always found he'd liked names based on what kind of person they were. He hated the names Dudley, Vernon, Petunia and Draco. He might have liked them if he'd never met anyone with those names before. He'd not met a Natalia before. It may have just been the girl in front of him but he thought Natalia was a very pretty name for a ballerina.

"Your name? Uh, Natalia Pavlova, I hadn't really thought about it? I, err, don't think there's anything wrong with Pavlova, as a name, and Natalia seems like a pretty name to me… I hadn't thought of it before but it, err, seems like a fitting name for a beautiful ballerina."

He couldn't stop the blush as he admitted that he liked her right to her face!

"I think I'd like you regardless of what your name was. The way you danced when I first saw you. You were like an angel floating across the dance floor. You were so focused on your motions I couldn't help but stare. And you're gorgeous without taking into account how amazing you are when your dancing."

Harry couldn't look at her as he spoke. He'd never said such things to a girl before. His palms were clammy again and he was so tense while speaking his private thoughts aloud.

Harry looked back to see if he could still see any of her reaction with his head bowed. He didn't think he could bear it if she'd just rejected him out of hand.

When he got the courage to actually look at her, he was surprised by what he saw. She had her hand up to her mouth and she was shaking slightly. It took him a moment to realize she was laughing.

She was laughing at his answer!

He felt crushed. He ruthlessly stopped any idea of crying as his sadness gave way to indignation. How dare this girl laugh at him!

Natalia lost her battle to keep her giggles silent. Her body was racked with them and she grasped Harry's forearm in an effort to stay balanced.

Harry looked back again. She thought this was legitimately very funny. Nothing on her face or in her body language looked malicious. Why was she laughing so hard?

Her grasping at Harry, to keep herself upright, stopped their forward progression. She shifted more weight onto him as she struggled to stay standing.

She looked up at him and for the first time, he saw her smile. She was divine, it took away any remnant of his mistaken hurt and anger. He'd need to find ways for her to look at him like that again.

She continued to smile as she looked at him.

"Harry, I meant did you like me or just my family's wealth and power!"

"Oh," his cheeks were already red so any further embarrassment thankfully couldn't change their state.

She giggled at him further, a melodious sound to his ears. Natalia let go of him and the two continued their walk in the park while she got her giggles under control.

"It's your question," she told him.

Hey, she spoke to him first this time! Real progress being made here now.

He hadn't realized it was his turn. He hadn't thought of a question. He didn't want to stop the progress so why not ask hers?

"Do you like me or my name?" Harry couldn't help the small smirk that adorned his lips as he asked.

She did look back at him with her sweet smile still in place and responded. "Potter isn't really a name a girl would dream to have. Though I guess Harry is pretty nice, but I suppose it could be mixed up with _hairy_ and that's not so good." Her eyes glistened in the pale moonlight. Her more open demeanour was far more attractive to him and he was already painstakingly attracted to her.

"You danced so well you floated like an angel." She couldn't help but break into another fit of giggles at his expense when she finished. Harry huffed, shook his head, then playfully shoved her shoulder sending her stumbling off a few steps as she tried to control her laughter. Harry was a little annoyed at the moment. He didn't mind being poked fun at. He just actually wanted her to answer the question. Was it possible she liked him? He was pouting at the beautiful girl that had teased him with her answer.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you how to treat a lady?" She asked, with amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Nope." He replied, popping the p. "And, now it's my turn again." He told her triumphantly.

"Hey! It's my turn!" She moved back towards him and returned his earlier soft push, with a soft shoulder bump of her own. Harry took the bump good-naturedly and smirked at her. "The deal was question for question and you just asked if I knew how to treat a lady! It's not my fault, you wasted your question."

"It was a rhetorical question!" She pouted at him.

Harry's grin grew. "A rhetorical question is still a question!"

"Fine!" She said as she kept pouting at him, her bottom lip fully protruded in full pout position. Her blue eyes were all doe-eyed, here eyelashes batting at him more than standard blinking would require, and her eyebrows were raised ever so slightly.

Harry couldn't stand to face pouting perfection and caved to her pretty petulance.

"Fine," he sighed.

Her expression turned to one of triumph this time. "Thanks! Maybe you do know how to treat a lady." She responded brightly.

"What do you know about my family?"

"Only what Madame Lacroix told me. Your family operates in Bulgaria, Russia and Germany where they have political sway, economic strength, and financial wealth." He shrugged as he said the last part. "Nothing beyond that."

Natalia wasn't used to such blunt honesty and especially for a boy around her age to not know what the Pavlova name represented. She didn't understand how he didn't know more about her infamous family.

Harry was wondering if he should know more about them based on how she asked. What should he ask now? He wanted to keep it light and get her talking more.

"When did you start ballet lessons?"

"When I was three," she began her response with a faint smile. "I think my parents wanted me out from underfoot," she concluded morosely.

A cold gust of wind brought a chill down Harry's spine. He was cold and he saw her arms shove back into her body to hug some warmth back into it.

Harry pulled out his wand and cast two silent warming charms. She felt the absence of the wind's cold and a flood of warmth on her body. She looked back at Harry surprised and saw him resheathing his wand.

"Aren't you not allowed to cast magic?"

"I thought I'd show I'm capable of treating a lady right. Is that the question that you want me to answer?" He wasn't going to answer another question then have her pout at him to make it not count.

They walked a few more steps, side by side, before she told him it was.

"The stupid tournament I got stuck in was for adults only. Magically, I'm emancipated but legally I'm not yet an adult."

"Wow! Emancipated at 14?"

"Is that another question my lady?" He asked with a chuckle. Before she could respond, he added to it, "I'll reciprocate and ask you the same question if it is."

Once again she agreed, Harry shared he was indeed fourteen and learned she was fifteen... They had been walking and talking for some time now and he was still hesitant to ask if she liked him. His courage let him get close but he wouldn't take the full plunge.

"Would you even want to go with me to the Yule Ball? It's going to bring a lot of scrutinies and probably going to be a mess for me personally…" After asking the initial question, he mumbled the extra info.

"I want to, it's just not such a straightforward situation."

It was her turn for a question and Harry felt a hand on his forearm pulling him. She stopped him from moving and turned so her body was facing him. They were standing facing each other now.

"I know we just met and all but do you... Do you like me? Would you want to take me?"

Harry gulped, he knew this was serious. She had stopped him, turned him, and got him to focus on her just as she was on him.

"I- I think so? You're, you're, well..." Why was it so hard to look into her beautiful blue eyes and tell her the thoughts that had been running through his head since he first set eyes on her as he watched her practice.

He could do it and he went for it.

"You're bloody gorgeous. I could watch you dance for hours. I don't know how long I watch you practice with Lacroix. She asked me if I wanted to take you.,. I told her I wanted to get to know you first and just make sure I won't be making new problems. I'm told your family is powerful and I already have enemies, I can't afford more now."

He stopped talking to collect himself and looked right at her again as he added a final thought out loud.

"I'd love to ask you, you seem kind, your beautiful and I really liked dancing with you. I just don't know what or if there would be consequences for daring to ask you."

x-x-x-x-x-x

The first day after meeting Natalia Pavlova, he had a big issue. His training was off all day so far because of it. He couldn't get her off his mind. Even her name sounded good enough to eat! He'd completed his physical workout, his magical training, and tried to keep on task with his studying for OWLs. Now it was the time of day where he finally had time to himself. No dance lessons after dinners on Sundays and no chance to drop in and see the girl stuck at the forefront of his thoughts. The Lacroix Ballet Academy was closed on Sundays. He could try and send Hedwig but if she lived in Germany, Russia or Bulgaria the letter probably wouldn't reach her today.

He knew he would be visiting with her next Saturday, where they would work on his dancing skills again. Should he attempt an owl? He knew he shouldn't. They admitted they liked each other but she wasn't his date yet. There seemed to be something's missing from his understanding of just what it meant to be Natalia Pavlova. She didn't even consider arguing against him worrying about the repercussions of them spending an evening together in public.

He needed to bury himself in a book or something. He could talk to Lacroix and see if she could impart some wisdom on him. He'd not gotten as far in his studies as he should of earlier and resolved himself that he would complete it tonight. There was a soft pulsing glow he'd not read yet. Pulling out his wand he summoned the book, no way was he going to get up and risk waking Cuddles up. The little gremlin was a right terror when woken in a way she didn't agree with. Harry tried to push the beautiful brunette out of his head by opening the book and beginning to read.

_Why do we vocalize spells? Earlier I explained, to you my heir, that it was getting agreeance between the physical body, the mind, and magic. To get your entire being working in concert. Then, that it wasn't necessary to vocalize spells. Anything you could vocalize could be done silently. Like most rules of magic, it is a lie. Magic is sentient and words have power._

_Some spells and rituals require the usage of specific vocalized words. Fiendfyre is one such spell. The fire is unnatural, you cannot just intend it, you cannot force it with your own magical power, nor will it, alone, into existence. There is no creative way to bring forth those specific cursed flames. They must be called forth and either subdued from wreaking wanton wreckage or allowed to burn out. The killing curse, Avada Kedavra, must be spoken and is another such example._

_There is a common thread to the type of magic that require vocalization, words of power. Any spell that is against the very nature of magic itself must be vocalized. It is unnatural for a human to dominate another so completely as one does with the Imperius curse. There is nothing found in the entire world that can devastate an individual like the Cruciatus curse. Magic is sentient, it is not just enough to intend magic to go against its nature. It is not sufficient to try and will the unnatural into existence. To make one break its very own essence is no simple feat._

_How difficult would it be to force a mother to slay their babe or a father to step aside and let their offspring be tortured? Do you think you could get them to act against their very being just by intending it? By willing it? By creative and cunning methods? No, for a parent to take actions that hurt, or allow it to happen, to their innocent child requires action, actions that bring about something perverse. You must call add something beyond the four pillars. To make magic act against its will you must use words of power._

_All witches and wizards are a form of magical creature. Your body is infused with magic, it is a part of your makeup. Your intent, your will, your power, your words, every part of your being and your actions have magical repercussions. Magic will exact a price for crossing it. Be certain in your words, be careful in your actions, never forget Magic is sentient and that words have power._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a whole lot to respond to so it will be short. I don't plan on having an OC mary sue perfect 15 year old parachute in now and provide major solutions. Assist with character development sure, most 14 year olds that have an interest gorgeous 15 year old girl into them gain confidence and feel protective of something that brings them happiness. Often relationships start with all the highs and you don't see any downside in your partner. At this point the two have started to get to know each other and admitted they like each other. Beyond that nada. If it feels like she's too perfect keep the AN in mind. She will not be. Often on your best behaviour and doing your best to make the person like you to start as well.
> 
> Constructive feedback is always appreciated. thanks for reading, reviewing and favoriting.
> 
> Edit & Announcement: Haphne24 has graciously decided to help out and beta. A lot of little things fixed in the beta'd version now. godspeed trying to make this coherent!


	9. The Dolt & The Brat

Harry tried to keep himself occupied so he would not think about her but since he had to go back to the dance studio, it didn't work. At least he had been productive in his spare time. He sent a letter to Griselda Marchbanks to inquire about the process for signing up for OWL examinations. He was a little surprised when he hadn't received a prompt reply back from McGonagall but he suspected Dumbledore interfered. He adamantly refused to be the man's pawn.

Harry apparated away and arrived at the dance studio. Arriving at the entrance, he made his way towards the dance floor. Harry had learned the studio was not as small as he'd thought; there was a much larger training area. He'd never had reason to use the area before and didn't expect he ever would. However, the entrance to the training area being open caught his eye since normally it never was. Why was it open now? His curiosity got the best of him and he silently walked forward and entered. The stage was empty of any dancers and it was only brightly lit near the front seats. He moved towards it and was surprised when he saw a person sitting at a desk. Harry didn't recognize the figure right away. The person studying had long brown hair that went down her back, far enough to tease the top of her tush. She had at least half a dozen books scattered about the desk and was writing with a quill.

Harry slowly approached while getting a knowing feeling this was the same girl that had porously plagued his thoughts. She was too engrossed in her work to notice him walk up quietly towards her.

"Natalia?" He asked.

The girl in question spun her body around quickly as she was startled from her work. The look of panic rapidly gave way turning into a shy blush.

"I didn't expect to see you here. Do you normally study here?"

Her blush intensified but it didn't impede her ability to respond naturally with a pre-planned answer.

"I attend classes during the day then study and complete my assignments... so I have weekends and mornings free to practice here. I- I sometimes come here to study; I, I like it here and it's... quiet." Her voice grew small as she finished her spiel.

A clearing of someone's throat caused them to both jump. At the entrance was Lacroix.

"Your lesson was to begin on time, Mr Potter." Was all she said before spinning on the spot and leaving to go back to where Harry should already be. He knew he'd just come on time today since he hadn't wanted to wait around in the studio. Now, he wished he'd come early.

"You'd better get in there before she gets really upset," Natalia said urgently. "Go, Harry."

He did exactly as she said, hurrying quickly to dance practice. However, his thoughts were a mess. He'd been coming here five days a week for a little bit now and how he had not since her once? It was possible that she could have been in there and he had not noticed. Regardless, it was a blessing to see her today since he was dreading waiting a week.

Dancing with Anna was nice again and Lacroix was adding to his repertoire. She was just as critical for any mistakes he made as she normally was. Harry seriously thought she just made some up to make herself feel like she wasn't just standing there counting over and over. Harry felt confident by the time the Yule Ball arrived he would be the best male dancer there.

The evening went by quickly, once Harry chased thoughts of the ballerina studying nearby out of his head, and once he thanked Anna for helping him he went to see if Natalia was still there.

"Harry a word first in my office." Lacroix had seen where his eyes went and could read the hormone-addled young man with ease. She knew the likely result of her initiating contact between the two. Unless there was a distinct physical attribute the other disliked the two would gravitate to each other naturally. Lacroix tried, as she might, to not play favourites but couldn't help it since Natalia was her darling dancer. None of the three major backing families ever let their heirs join the Ballet Academy properly.

It was so rare for five children to be born from a single wizarding power couple. Natalia was the granddaughter she never had and Harry had quickly become an adored grandson to her. With that being said, the situation was volatile and she didn't know who else may be advising Harry. He was being taught well. He was far too established in silent casting to be taught by anything less than a real master of magic. The article provided some insight with what it was unable to uncover. She had assumed, like Samantha Roberts, Harry had sought the very best magical tutors available. The reporter was very thorough and was unable to yield any result. He was already adept at apparition and probably doing so without a license. The first few times he had shown up she could see the soot on him but now it had stopped.

She did know whoever was teaching him magic had failed him socially. He should have known about his status within the Black family or he should not have contacted her. By rule, she didn't get involved in any sort of politics or business. When you have the backing of three rather different families, you don't meddle. However, Arcturus would never have let a Black be so ill-informed. He may officially be a Black but he lacked the breeding of a true one. She had begun to care about the boy but knew she was limited on how to help him.

Following the routine, Harry grasped the goblet and drank deeply from it. He'd wanted to go see if Natalia was free; he was itching to get out of here and catch his new friend.

"Harry, I know you wish to catch Natalia before she leaves and you will. I just want to talk briefly."

"Okay" Harry replied drawing out the o slightly.

"I don't think you've understood my place in life. I've acted beyond where I should have and I need to be very careful. Our association beyond formal dance instruction cannot be known."

Why would her helping him with their little chats be such an issue? He thought.

"Harry, I'm a dance instructor. I understand my place in life and I love what I do. I am able to provide some general guidance but no more. You are a part of the Black family. I cannot favour your family over my two main other benefactors nor should you want me to."

The warm demeanour was back as they were in private again. The pattern of imparting advice Harry had come to expect was not being followed. It was going a totally foreign direction to the norm.

"I don't know who is directing your magical education now, but they are good. I can see you need assistance in the social, political and economic world. But my hands are tied. Can your magic tutor not assist?"

Harry felt blindsided by this. Was she abandoning him now? Just going back to the cold dance instructor? It fit the pattern of his life. Adults can only act nicely for short periods.

Lacroix saw how quickly the young man became despondent. His shoulders slumped, his posture stiffened and he was bracing himself for further bad news.

"Harry." She snapped at him to get his full attention back. "I. Am. A. Dance. Instructor. Think about what that means! I know my limits! Do you not understand that?" She fixed him a stern glare.

"My family has built a nice niche where we rub shoulders with the elite in society. We have a reputation as the best studio. We're a luxury, a prestige they can afford. If we upset them, they will take their business elsewhere."

She could see him think about it further and his eyes sparkled with life once more.

"Harry I'm telling you I have limits to what I can do. Not that I am abandoning you. Not that I won't help you."

She had to make it plainly clear so he wouldn't push her away.

"Oh." Harry was still downcast, in comparison to his usual demeanour, but slowly brightened as he rationalized what he had been told.

"I've come to rather like you. Your work ethic and honest demeanour endeared you to me," she gave him a reassuring smile.

"Thanks," he tried his best to return the smile. "Are you able to tell me why you thought Natalia and I wouldn't work out?"

Madame Lacroix stilled. She knew she had to be very cautious here. Then again, the knowledge he was asking for he _should_ already know. He only asked because he was an orphan, and nobody had told him about his family history. Then again, he was also a part of House Black. His mixed lineage complicated things greatly.

"The Pavlova family has a stigma they are maligned for, for their role in Grindelwald's campaign… Your grandfather, Charlus Potter, and your grandmother's brother, Arcturus Black, were on the other side of the war until the Pavlova family switched."

Harry had never heard this kind of history. He knew of Dumbledore's role in the war but he didn't know his grandfather and great uncle were involved too.

"There are a few viewpoints of their actions. One is that they read the tea leaves and saw their side was going to lose. That they only switched because Grindelwald's defeat was imminent."

She paused sipping her water waiting for the boy to focus on her again.

"The official stance of the Pavlova family is that they switched because they couldn't stomach the atrocities they became aware of and that their defection was crucial in turning the tide of the war."

She could see the gears turning in his head. Understanding how the same action could be viewed so differently, especially by the side they switched to.

"What is not debatable is the war ended two months after their decision to change allegiances."

It was marvellous to see one so young taking the time to process information and not just react off right off the bat. There was a time and place for swift action and other times where patience and prudence paid dividends.

"Oh… then why would it be a problem for me to take Natalia? Neither of us were alive then and it's not like she made the decision."

She sighed. Harry had come a long way already and yet he was still just fourteen. He should be guided by parental figures, it was becoming increasingly evident he had not been.

"It's not that simple Harry... if- if you get into a _real _relationship with Miss Pavlova, your actions are silently informing everyone you tacitly approve of their family. Whether it is fair or not, if you were to marry her it is a statement the Potter family approves of the Pavlova family, even all their history."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_Mr Potter,_

_The Yule Ball is to begin at six in the evening. You and your date should arrive prior to then, I would suggest no less than a quarter to six. When you arrive at the castle, you will be directed to where you will wait until your entrance with the other Triwizard Tournament Champions._

_Dinner will be served once everyone is sat. Following dinner will be the opening dance by the champions and their respective dates. There is no further itinerary scheduled, however, media members will be in attendance and I would anticipate they will wish to speak with you._

_As for traditions, there are some things you should be aware of. There is specific etiquette for formal balls and books can be ordered from Flourish and Blotts that cover it extensively. Further instruction on general social etiquette and dance instruction is recommended as well. There is one final item to be aware of. It is traditional to give a gift to your date for the evening. The type of gift varies and ideas can be sought in the topic based books discussed above._

_There have been a number of students that have asked if we knew of a way to contact you as owls have been unable to find you. I have attached a few letters to go along with mine._

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Harry had been thankful that her suggestions matched what Lacroix had been telling him. He had been suggested to get a small piece of jewellery or some kind of trinket to wear for his date, as well as the Fairway girls.

He leafed through the other letters to see who had all written something to him. It brought a small to his face to see there were more than just one or two. There was no way he was going to have time to respond to all of them now. He was going to meet up with Natalia to study before his next dance lesson.

She had waited for him after he finished his talk with Lacroix and he was still of the opinion she did not study there regularly. Harry thought she wanted to see him again and found a way to make it happen. Harry picked up a few books he had been working on and left to go to the studio. He was planning on working on the theoretical portions he had progressed to. He was going to just read since he didn't think practising spellwork in a dance studio was prudent. Plus, he'd only seen Natalia with bookwork yesterday evening.

By the time he was done with Lacroix, the previous night, it was already quite late. Only a couple of awkward minutes were shared by the two before they made plans to study together this evening. Since she actually had to finish homework, Harry only had the hour between dinner and the start of dance lessons to actually be in her presence. It would have to wait until the weekend to spend any kind of actual quality time together. Although, Harry had no idea what they should even do for that.

Harry entered to find Natalia working. She was at the same desk as the previous evening and Harry decided to sit on the other side of it.

"Hi." He said shyly; it was still difficult to talk to such a pretty girl.

"Hi." She replied demurely back with a slight rose hue coming to her cheeks.

"I'll just get reading then?" Harry asked nervously.

"Sure," she said. Ugh, Harry hated that reply. One word answers were becoming the bane of his existence.

Harry sat in his chair and pulled out his book. He began to read from where he last left off and continued his studies. It didn't take long for his attention to wander. His eyes sought out the only other soul in the room and he drank in her form again. It was so cute how hard she was working.

_Thump_. The book Harry was holding open had slipped from his grasp and made a noise on the desk. Her eyes caught his and he blushed being caught staring at her. She turned as crimson as him realizing he had been watching her instead of working.

Harry sought to bury his embarrassment and get to reading.

_Bloodlines are important since there are unique traits that can be passed on to future progeny. There are more powerful bloodline abilities, such as Parseltongue and Metamorphmagus, however, most are more simplistic. Every person has an affinity for some form of magic. It is a mistake to think that an affinity affects an entire field of magic. For example, an affinity for all of the branches of transfiguration is pretty well unheard of. Having a greater ability to achieve the animagus transfiguration is possible. There are rumours of a family having the ability to better take on the characteristics of their animal to a greater degree than is normally possible. Animagi gain traits from their animal counterpart…_

He felt the gaze of Natalia and kept his head still and quickly moved his eyes up to catch her. He grinned realizing that she probably actually did like him. He _knew_ he liked her and his gaze always wished it followed her. Now, he'd caught her doing the same! Harry liked seeing her red-hued cheeks. She was really cute when she was embarrassed. Natalia went back to her work and Harry continued with his reading.

… _though they are typically minor. An owl animagus will normally gain minor improvements in their night vision, for example. A cat animagus may suddenly be better at sensing with their nose thought it is doubtful they would gain a much stronger sense of balance. Affinities are highly valued and the source of considerable conflicts. In fact, they..._

Harry snuck a glance at the young ballerina. Natalia was looking visibly annoyed with her homework. A quill in her mouth and her wand in hand. She was furiously looking through the book.

"Need help?" Harry asked.

She looked up, eyes widening. She quickly used her wand to end the silencing spell.

"No, I'm just kind of stuck but it's for OWL prep work..." Her voice trailed off. She knew Harry was a year behind her in classes so he wouldn't be much assistance.

"Are you sure? What subject is it?" Harry inquired.

Natalia rolled her eyes since she didn't think the younger boy could help but decided to humour the younger boy. "Transfiguration. I'm working on the owl to opera glasses spell _Strigiforma_."

Harry stood up and looked to see she actually had an owl to practice on. He must not have noticed because she was using a silencing spell to ensure she didn't disturb him while practising.

"Give it a try again." He said while moving around the desk to watch more closely.

Natalia concentrated and spoke the incantation. Harry watched as she performed a correct looking wand motion, though he was unfamiliar with the actual spell, he'd learned that certain types of magic have base wand motions. He watched as the owl began to change into opera glasses. The vertebrae animal began changing into what looked like the base form when it stopped. She wasn't successful in her attempt.

Harry looked back at Natalya who was clearly more than annoyed now. She looked at him challengingly and gestured for him to try. Harry hadn't done the spell but it wasn't going to be difficult. He pulled his wand and returned the abomination back into an owl. Then he decided to not hold back and do it silently. He cast the spell, with just the base wand motion for animate to inanimate transfiguration, and watched as the owl turned into the exact copy of the picture in her open textbook.

"How"? Her mouth was agape. Her head kept darting between Harry and the perfect transfiguration that he did silently!

Harry shrugged not really sure what to say.

"Good teacher and lots of practice?" Harry said with a smirk.

"Can you teach me?" Natalia begged.

"Maybe, if you don't underestimate me again," he winked at her and she scowled him in return. Harry checked the time with a tempus and realized he had to go to his dance lesson in a minute. He moved back to his books and grabbed the one for transfiguration. He opened it to the page discussing tips and tricks for animate to inanimate transfiguration and passed it to her.

She made a funny face at him but Harry dismissed it as he hurried off to more dance lessons.

When he returned after his lesson, he found a disgruntled Natalia and a goblet that wasn't as good as the one he had done.

"Did you still need help?" He asked, with a smirk.

She glared at him in response and didn't dignify his question with any kind of response. She stalked to the part of the desk he had used earlier and threw the book, he had lent her, at him.

"What kind of joke is this?" She asked obviously upset. Harry looked at the book again and was confused. Why was she so upset with it? He'd given her the perfect study tool from Salazar Slytherin's personal library! He'd trusted her a great deal and she was rejecting it? It didn't make sense.

"What kind of joke is that?" She questioned pointedly.

"Joke?" Were women just crazy?

"Yes." She growled at him for being so dense. Harry's eyes kept darting between the book in his hand and the increasingly upset young woman. Did she know how great she looked when she was upset? It was _almost_ worth having the girl he liked mad at him just to see this.

"You give me a book full of useless scratches and squiggly lines after showing off." Natalia retorted.

"Squiggly lines and scratches?" He parroted back at her.

She didn't respond with an actual word just a mixed-up grumbled attempt at a response that was overpowered by the growl in her voice.

Harry looked at the book again and shut it to make sure he had the right one. It was _Transfiguration I_.

"Err... " he pointed the cover to her, "it's my _Transfiguration I _book… it, uh, explains transfiguration concepts from cover to cover."

"Stop messing around. It's not funny! It's a prank book. I tried dispelling it but it resisted everything I tried."

Harry's eyes continued to shift between the irate young woman and the book. Was the book protected from others reading it? Why would she see squiggly lines and weird scratches? _Oh. _Could it be written in parseltongue? Would Salazar have done that so it was only capable of being read by his heirs? Yes, he probably would have from what Harry knew about him from his memoirs.

"Sorry." He said as soon as he realized what probably had occurred. "I think my teacher locked it so only I can, uh, read it?" It wasn't a great response but hopefully, she wouldn't question it at all.

"Oh." She replied as the anger visibly sunk away.

"I should have known," Harry mumbled in reply. He felt embarrassed he'd tried to help her and instead had probably hindered her work.

"No, I'm sorry. You didn't know and were trying to help… and I jumped to conclusions. Sorry, Harry." The earlier demure expression returned to her.

"I can just tell you what it says if you want instead."

She smiled shyly at him. "Sure."

"Do you know the most important parts to focus on for transfiguration spells?"

"You mean, like, how my professor said transfiguration requires strong focus and a clear picture of what you want to happen in your mind?"

"Kind of," Harry replied. "It's not so much focus as it is your willpower. The magic in the owl knows that it should be an owl. When you cast your spell to change it, your will must override the owl's innate magic to force and shape it according to your will. The more clear you instruct your will the easier it becomes."

Speaking directly to the older girl, he saw she understood the first part. It was plain to see she hadn't had the concept explained this before. In his introduction to the subject, McGonagall hadn't explained it this way. He noticed she seemed to be a little confused with the second part. She had narrowed her eyes and her eyebrows furrowed when he explained it.

"Think of it like assembling a puzzle. If I gave you a puzzle and told you to solve it you could do it. If I didn't give you the picture of the end result it would be more difficult and time-consuming because you wouldn't know where each grouping of like pieces went in the overall structure. Magic is like that. When you have a clear idea of exactly what you want, to will your magic to do, it becomes easier the more clear the end result is."

She didn't respond right away. He could see she was thinking it over. Instead of a response, she shut her eyes tightly, in obvious concentration. When she opened her eyes she had a determined look to her and brandished her wand. She cast the spell again. Harry watched as the owl changed from the bird into the exact replica of Harry's earlier transfiguration. Natalia jumped up and down as she screeched happily at finally getting the spell perfect! She was beaming and closed the distance between them pressing her body against his and wrapping him up in a tight hug.

"Thank you!" She shouted as she expressed her gratitude verbally as well as physically. She seemed to realize what she'd done as she quickly broke the hug and backed up. Harry had been so surprised by the action he hadn't even been able to respond.

"You're welcome." He replied while savouring the feeling of having her wrapped around him.

"That was amazing! I've always struggled with the practical side of transfiguration. That's the first time all year I've done one perfect without practising for hours! You just saved me hours of practising this spell!" She was still exuberant at her success.

Harry was still red in the face from the young woman's earlier actions.

"It was nothing." He mumbled in reply. Accepting praise wasn't something he was all that great at yet.

"It was _not _nothing! I expected one whole more day of working on it still! You might have just helped me get an O in my OWL!" She was just realizing what this meant to her. Natalia had always had a harder time with transfiguration. That was going to change now! She quickly closed the distance between them and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. Blushing furiously she said thanks again. Harry's right hand rose to his left cheek and his fingers traced the outline of the kiss he'd just received.

Natalia checked the time with a tempus charm.

"I should be gone by now! I can't come tomorrow but would you be able to study Thursday?" She timidly asked him with large hopeful eyes, her head slightly bowed.

"Of course," Harry responded eagerly.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Today, he had dance lessons but he would not see Natalia and he would dance with Hannah as Anna could not make it. He wasn't looking forward to this lesson since Anna was starstruck around him; it actually reminded him of when he first started being around Ginny. Speaking of Ginny, she had added a letter into the packet McGonagall had passed along. It was a kind of McGonagall to do that but why had she done it? Between reading Salazar's memoirs, the mind rituals and his talks with Lacroix he recognized he thought differently and was developing the ability to better analyze situations. It didn't really matter in this case. He could have guessed the contents of many of the letters. Ron wanted to apologize for how he treated Harry and go back to being friends. Fred and George were humorous and said they were sorry for not being more vocal in their support.

The letters from Sirius and Hermione were more of an interest to him. Sirius was supposed to be the person his parents trusted to raise him, but their trust was misplaced. His first two opportunities he proved he cared more about avenging his dead friends than their son. His actions hurt or shook the trust he would place in the man, yet deep down there was a flicker of hope the man could become a proper guardian figure for him. He would ensure he was emancipated permanently before he'd consider putting himself in the man's care though. His letter said Sirius was making his way back towards Hogwarts. He'd left the country to keep himself safe because he thought Harry was doing okay and he couldn't be a help if he was caught and kissed on sight. He wrote that he thought Harry needed his help more than ever now and would be back sometime in the new year.

He had a number of questions, most of which mirrored Hermione's. Where was he staying, who was looking after him, why had he left, how was he preparing for the tournament, if he was learning magic, and on and on. He decided to pen both before his dance lesson and send Hedwig off. He'd instruct her she could wait for a reply from Sirius but not Hermione. He'd be seeing her soon.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I am writing this in two parts. One to just you and a general letter for everyone that wrote to me. I'm rather busy these days and don't want to write out the same letter over and over. See the next page for the general letter. When you are in private, tap this page with your wand and state your full name followed by my full name to get it to show you the actual letter I wrote just to you._

_Hello Everyone,_

_I am perfectly fine, healthy and happy. I have found a great place to live and I have all of my needs looked after. I will be attending the Yule Ball and will see everyone when I'm back at Hogwarts. Dumbledore has asked me if I will return to Hogwarts and I'll tell you all what I told him. I'm not committing to it at this time and will speak to him about it at a later date. My first and foremost priority is surviving the tournament and I'm off to a good start with just two tasks to go. I have already solved the riddle and am refining plans for it. I would ask for any and all of your assistance if I thought it was necessary._

_I did interview with Sam. She was actually quite pleasant for a reporter. She was fair and did a good job. I knew I needed to start answering some of their questions after how poorly the first one went off. We have discussed further interviews at later dates. I need to get ahead of any negative reports and fix all the false reporting about me that has been done since 1981._

_I'm sorry I'm not able to tell you all about where I am staying or even what I am doing. You'll get some clues at or before the Yule Ball. Looking forward to seeing everyone._

_Harry Potter_

_Dear Hermione,_

_Thanks for the letter and yes I was quite mad at you when I first left. You and Ron were my best friends! When I needed yours and his support, neither was there for me. You shouldn't have even had to have asked if I put myself into it! I told you I wanted no part of it. Why would I seek to enter a tournament cancelled because of the death toll that is meant for the best seventh year the schools have to offer?_

_I have spent some time since you asked me, reflecting on it and I can see your side. You have two best friends and didn't want to alienate either. You refused to get involved and I hope you can see it from my point of view. I did what I have always had to do - I took care of myself. I found somewhere better to go, I found a better education and I'm making sure all my interests are being handled._

_I have a date to the Yule Ball and won't have issues dancing. I was already aware of the information McGonagall sent back and have that well in hand already. Thanks for the offer to go with me if I needed a date. I don't need any notes from you or aid since I have spent a lot of my time studying and I'm quite far ahead in some classes. I will be taking three OWL exams as soon as I'm able to schedule them._

_We can talk more when we see each other at Yule._

_Harry_

Ugh, one more letter then he could head off to the dance studio.

_Snuffles,_

_I am doing just great. Better than when I was at Hogwarts. I'm learning far more than I ever did in classes. I have a very secure place to stay where nobody can even send me an owl. I made it through the First Task and had several plans for it even though they became unnecessary. I already know what the Second Task is and have multiple plans being worked on. Don't do anything stupid or risk being caught. Don't listen to what anyone else says about how I'm doing._

_I am going to be retaining a lawyer and see how they can get you a trial. I have some connections with the press and can probably point her at your case if you want. It's your life so I will let you decide. I could interview with Samantha again and let her research your lack of a trial. We could wait and go for a double whammy and get the lawyer and press to go for the knockout at the same time. Let me know. I've told Hedwig to await your reply. Once you're free, we can get you treatment from your tender care at resort Azkaban!_

_Harry_

_Ps. I have quite the date for the Yule Ball. No chance you'll miss seeing us in the newspapers the next day._

Harry sealed the final letter and instructed his beloved owl. He kind of preempted his asking Natalia but he already knew he would. Lacroix wouldn't have suggested her if it would be a big issue for them to go on a single date together. He understood what she was warning him of. Don't let his hormones get the best of him. The larger consequences to his smaller actions was something she had been forcing him to understand. There was no rush to get into a serious relationship with the youngest Pavlova anyways since he was only fourteen! He planned to keep it casual and get to know her more but that is easier said than done. It was one of the reasons he didn't think he wanted to move out of the Chamber of Secrets for some time because it was his own Fortress of Solitude.

He cast _tempus_ and saw it was time to get to the studio. Lacroix would have his hide if he was late and would make him practice longer. He couldn't stand the damn counting. He apparated.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

He was going to meet Natalia at the Lacroix Ballet Academy before they would abscond away together before returning for an extra dance lesson. Harry had told Lacroix, in their Wednesday chat, that he would ask Natalia on Saturday to be his date. He wanted her to keep it a secret. He would ask her if she would be willing to do that and if she planned to tell her family. He thought it might be best to play it off as if they kind of met before the ball and decided to go together as a really casual thing.

Harry arrived at the studio and found Natalia was already waiting for him. He smiled openly at her. It was amazing how much more comfortable he felt around her already. Four study sessions where they, sadly, had actually just studied in the same vicinity. Even the limited contact had allowed the worst of his nerves to adjust. Today she was in casual clothes, some form of black pants that clung to her long, lustrous, legs, a tight-fitting top with a jumper over top. She had her long light brown hair in some form of single braid running down her back. The combination made her endearingly enchanting to him. She was smiling at him too. They had a couple of hours to spend together. The plan was a nice walk, some lunch, and a snack before their dance lesson.

"Hey." He greeted her warmly.

"Hey." She returned quietly.

Harry was getting used to her personality. She was shy and if they were going to talk, he'd have to initiate conversation; only when she got animated about something did she open up. One area that Harry would definitely not be leading the relationship would be physical affection. She'd hugged him three times now and had given his cheek two kisses. All of them came when she was ecstatic about something he taught her to help her school work.

Natalia moved closer to him and held out her hand so they could apparate. Harry looked at her hand for a second before he realized just what she was wanting. Harry trepidatiously connected their two hands, while going red like a tomato.

"Ready?" He asked wishing he could keep his face from being so red around her all the time.

"Yes." Her chin tucked into her chest and her eyes looking at their intertwined hands.

Harry apparated the two of them appearing in the same spot as last time. Nobody seemed to notice the two of them and they made their way to the main path, the same one as the previous weekend. Harry had kept his wand up his right sleeve and preemptively cast two warming charms expecting she would get cold again.

"Thanks, Harry." She said.

The two began their walk again. Harry wondering what they should talk about this time. The one thing the studying together had not addressed, at all, was their abysmal communication habits.

After taking the first few steps in silence, Harry decided to go for the same plan as last time.

"Question for question like last week again?"

Natalia nodded. "You first this week."

Harry agreed and asked his first question quickly. "Did you get all your homework done?"

"Yes, thanks to your transfiguration help, I didn't have much to do Friday." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze as she looked at him.

"Why don't you write anything down when we did homework? You just read every time." She asked.

That was nice, complete sentences without the word 'sure'!

"I don't really do assignments," he shrugged as he responded, "I have one on one training and just do whatever I'm asked to do."

"No assignments?!"

"Is that a second question?" Harry asked with a smirk.

"You asked a second one just now! Yes, it is another question. See I just answered yours!"

"Hey, that wasn't a real question it was a clarification!"

"Well, then neither was mine! It was a clarification too!" The two had stopped walking and Natalia had, maturely, stuck her tongue out at Harry after completing he last statement.

Harry harrumphed. "Next time you ask a follow-up question, I'm going to answer it then ask two."

"Nuh-uh! We just established clarification doesn't count. _You just _said so yourself!" She used her left hand, the one free of being held in Harry's, and lightly poked him just behind his arm, whose hand was conjoined with hers and nailed him in between two ribs.

"Ow! What was that for?" Harry whined.

Natalia was grinning at him mischievously though it was tempered with a slightly sheepish look for poking him harder than she intended.

"Oh goody, another question! You didn't answer my clarification and now you've asked another." She gloated triumphantly.

"No way! That's not fair. How did you turn your extra questions around on me?" Harry asked and smacked himself in the face for asking another question.

"I'm just that good. And, that's another question from you!" She laughed at his shocked look at having asked another question again.

"I'll get even here," Harry responded, petulantly.

"I haven't been assigned any written assignments by my tutor."

"That's so not fair. I spend every evening working on mine just so I can get Saturday and Sunday to practice at the studio. Who is your tutor? Would they take another student? Whomever it is, obviously, is really good if you can teach me and I'm a year ahead of you."

Harry smirked back at her this time. "You just evened it out. You asked two questions!" He did a little fist pump in his triumph.

Natalia giggled at his antics. "I did it on purpose, you dolt."

"Hey! I'm not a dolt, you brat!" Harry nudged her.

"I'm not a brat, dolt." Natalia nudged him back.

"Brat." Harry nudged her again.

"Dolt." Natalia nudged him back harder.

The two of them broke out into infectious laughter mutually enjoying teasing each other. This conversation was a lot more open and fun. Once she got her giggles under control, Natalia reminded Harry he hadn't answered either of her _two_ questions.

"I can't say who my tutor is and they won't be taking on any other students beyond me, I know that for sure," Harry said.

"Can't blame a girl for asking," Natalia said with a wink.

Harry felt the warmth in his left hand. They, still, had neglected to disentangle their hands after apparition. He returned the earlier gesture now and lightly squeezed her hand. Their eyes met again, blue meeting green, and she timidly smiled at him again.

"My question, finally! I'm _so_ surprised you didn't make up a rule to ensure you gotta keep asking me unending questions."

"I can if you really want me to." She sweetly replied batting her eyelashes at him as they continued walking hand-in-hand.

"No, I like asking you questions and finding out just who Natalia is," Harry said.

Natalia stopped and quickly embraced him again.

"Thanks, Harry," she murmured into his chest before stepping out of the quick hug.

Harry tried to puzzle out why that would cause such a reaction. Should he ask his question as to why she liked it? Maybe he could start to understand more of what as going on. "Why'd you hug me?"

"What?" She squeaked back expecting a soft question again.

"Why'd you hug me?" Harry repeated.

"Because I wanted to?" Natalia responded.

"Because you wanted to," Harry wrinkled his nose unhappy with the non-answer, "But why did you want to?" Was it such a bad idea to ask?

Natalia didn't respond right away. They kept walking, step after step, while she was deliberating what to say.

"Are you willing to answer tough questions too?" Her gaze was piercing as she asked her follow up question.

"Yes? I think so." Harry paused his response to think if he'd missed anything. He'd not answered that Salazar was his tutor and he even answered, embarrassingly, the one question wrong last weekend. Harry looked at her again while they walked so he could get a clear read on her when he answered. "Have I not?"

Her face was so emotionally expressive. Her eyes were steeped with unspoken emotion, this wasn't just a silly question. She wasn't going to answer his if she didn't feel he would reciprocate. She was really asking can I trust you?

Harry's poor upbringing didn't allow him to understand this. He simply knew it was important, no more and no less. His instincts, however, guided him correctly. He had spied a park bench out of the corner of his eye and tugged on their connected hands to pull her over to sit at the bench. Being a gentleman, he dried the bench with a quick charm. The two of them sat before Harry put up a mild muggle repelling charm and privacy spell to keep their discussion between just them. She'd sat close to him; their legs weren't touching but they were in close proximity. He could feel lingering heat in the minuscule space between them. Her head was turned to give him full attention. Harry took hold of her closer hand again giving it a soft squeeze of reassurance once more.

Natalia nodded to herself as she worked up the courage to respond. This was personal to her and she didn't tell anyone these kinds of things. She'd lived a rather solitary life since her closest sibling was seven years older. Her parent's hadn't planned for her and it had always felt that way to her. She'd thrown herself headlong into ballet as it provided an escape from the life she was less than pleased with. Her siblings and parents were busy running their empire and had little time for her. Opening up to someone wasn't an easy task.

"You told me you wanted to get to know Natalia."

The response still failed to connect the dots for Harry.

"I'm sorry if I'm being a dolt," Harry said while staring away from her.

She'd been staring at their connected hands and slowly moving her fingers marvelling at the lovely feelings coming from such minimal contact with the young man beside her. She didn't look up as she responded.

"You're not a dolt; you just don't have my perspective." She flexed her hand putting pressure on his to give him a reassuring squeeze this time and smiled at him. His expression was so genuine. He wanted to know and wasn't pressuring her. It spurred her on to answer.

"You aren't trying to use me for connections; you meant exactly what you said. You want to get to know _me_."

"Oh," Harry responded.

Harry understood every word she spoke and exactly how they each interacted, how their delivery impacted the sentence structure, and yet he still missed the hidden meaning. Nobody could expect him to be at that level yet.

"I hugged you because it was natural. You gave me an emotional hug. I gave you a physical one…" Natalia began to move her thumb back and forth, across the back of Harry's hand. Silence had descended between them. Natalia revelling in the intimacy of the moment and Harry working through the real meaning of what had been said. The silence between them was comfortable this time. After the first minute of silence, she scooched over and closed the gap between them. The warming charm on her was still active, Harry had cast hers first and his was still working. The closeness made their hand holding awkward and she released his hand. He caught her far hand coming over to grasp his hand again. Her other thumb continued the light caressing the opposing one had just stopped. She sighed in contentment and dropped her head onto his shoulder.

It took another two minutes before Harry quietly broke the tranquillity. "I like your hugs…"

She didn't look up as he spoke so soft it was scarcely more than a whisper.

"I've received so few in my life." He didn't look at her as he spoke the words. He didn't realize his need to reciprocate and draw close to the brunette ballerina cuddled up to him.

"Mrs Weasley hugs so hard." He sighed lost in his memories of the hugs he had received from her. "Hermione… she was my best friend. Now?... It's complicated." He didn't know what to do about Hermione. He understood her actions and yet the knowledge didn't take the pain out of them. It didn't even dull it.

"She gave me my first hug." Harry's face was as rigid as stone as he stared out over the beautiful wintery landscape not daring to look at the young lady beside him.

"Your hugs aren't like hers. She hugs so hard I can barely breathe."

Natalia had shifted her head so she could look at him. She didn't take her face off his shoulder though. Mentioning his female best friend wasn't normally a great sign when a boy is on a date, even a pseudo date like this one. Her nerves ratcheted up as he talked about her.

"Your hugs are different… they're soft, warm, caring." Harry tapered off once again. "I don't know what being a Pavlova really means, but I like you and your hugs, Natalia."

There was only one response that was ever going to follow that declaration. Natalia moved closer, practically sitting on his lap, turned around, wrapped his arms around her, closed her eyes and leaned in for a kiss. At this moment, Harry was freaking out and had no idea what to do so he just let her lead and closed his eyes. Their lips connected for what felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds. To Harry, it felt like ecstasy and he thanked Merlin. She slowly pulled away hiding her head in his chest. They both were blushing red. "You're such a dolt." She fondly mumbled into his chest. She felt Harry's arm gently pull her into him.

Harry turned his head this time and stared down at her. Her gorgeous face turned back to meet his. He was smirking at her now and mischief was all over his face.

"Hey brat, I know it's your turn for a question, but does this mean you will be my date to the Ball?" Harry asked.

"Yes, you dolt!" Natalia said and pulled him in for a longer kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my awesome beta Haphne24. Haphne24 has the impossible task of trying to stop me from rambling on with excess detail and exposition all the time. Not to mention trying to polish it up at the same time. Still hating how the site reformats the writing. It works just isn't what I input.
> 
> Update is ahead of where I expected. Chapter is shy of the average word count but the next scenes aren't really chapter ending ones. It is what it is and this works better. Enjoyable last couple chapters and only a few more scenes to get until the Yule Ball. I'm trying to get there. The list felt super long and it's getting smaller. Very sad there is no obligatory Cuddles scene. Just didn't fit. Still some more things to introduce to the story are coming, some seeds planted and this is going better than I expected.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Its appreciated. I'll get back to work for the 10th chapter!


	10. She Came In Like A Wrecking Ball

Today, he was meeting Griselda Marchbanks. They had exchanged a single set of letters before he received a missive yesterday which asked to meet in person. However, Harry wasn't a fool to just accept it at face value. The request for a meeting could be a way for someone to try and get a hold of him or force him back to Hogwarts. He had arrived early, paid for a Butterbeer and sat at a table nearest to both the apparition point and the floo. Although, he had one minor problem in his plan; he didn't exactly know what Marchbanks looked like. She had been an examiner at Hogwarts and he hoped he would recognize her from that, even without her uniform on.

He was on the lookout for anyone suspicious. He had watched James Bond movies in the past and tried to mimic his spy skills. He figured Moody's constant vigilance wouldn't hurt too. He pretended to read a book while scouting the area. Harry recognized quite a few people as they came and went. Prior to the last school year, he'd spent quite a lot of time here and did not order any food in fear that Tom, the innkeeper, would recognize him. Curse that man for knowing all of his preferences.

Ten minutes before they were supposed to meet, he saw a faintly familiar woman enter. She was old and though she was visibly elderly, she still had gumption. Harry watched her make her way directly to the innkeeper, not wasting a single movement. They exchanged a few words before Tom brought her to a private room, one she had priorly reserved. Harry stood up and made his way to the room he had seen Tom just come out of. Pulling his cloak up a little higher, he walked right into the room. The centenarian lady was the only one in the room.

"Mr Potter, I presume?" She asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Yes, a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Harry responded offering a quick smile while he closed the door and secured the room with the basic privacy spell from Salazar's memoir along with the accompanying locking charms.

"My, my, deary, silent. And with such limited wand movements that I can't name the spell. More to you than meets the eyes especially considering your pedestrian marks. Maybe some of your lineage coming out?" She remarked and wondered aloud, to herself, not caring if Harry heard or not.

"Err, right." Harry wasn't quite sure how to deal with this woman. She didn't have the same stern and stiff posture he'd come to expect with older witches like Professor McGonagall and Lacroix.

"We don't normally get to see you for another year yet. Oh, deary, where are my manners? Call me Grisy, Griselda or Madame. Come sit. Tom, that lovely boy, but a poor NEWT student made us some tea and biscuits." Marchbanks was a whirlwind, chatting a mile a minute. The older woman flicked her wand and two chairs moved from their place, tucked under the table, into the perfect position for seating oneself. Harry watched the surprisingly dextrous old lady sit down and then gestured for him to do the same. Harry moved towards the chair on autopilot. He was mesmerized by this lady and had no real idea of what to make her. Her mannerisms shocked Harry and he had no experience dealing with someone like her. He remembered seeing her at Hogwarts and she comported herself as the epitome of upright and proper.

'Did she really want him to call her Grisy? He'd be sticking to Madame.' Harry thought.

"The Potter. Emancipation at fourteen, oh me, yes...yes, you Potters were always such firecrackers." She cackled, reminding him of an odd mixture between a stereotypical evil villain laugh and firecrackers exploding. "You've done it now though. Little Charlie and messy Jamie, no...no, they didn't make a ruckus like this, no...no they did not. You've stirred up the hornets' nest, the bees nest, the wasp nest, even the yellow jackets nest!"

Harry's jaw could not stay shut. His gaping maw never made noise when his facial muscles failed to keep it shut. He couldn't stop it from slowly slipping open over and over. He kept closing it but Gale Wind Grisy must have cast some spell to amplify gravity.

"Don't just gape like a fish! Tea and biscuits, the good stuff, from little Tommy." She whipped her wand around and Harry found himself sitting in the chair; the one he'd made his way over to but hadn't yet sat in. A small plate of biscuits appeared in front of him and a cup of tea poured itself into the teacup in front of him. The woman was a certifiable menace!

"Where were we? Emancipation! You've stirred it up, the whole kit and caboodle. They've stripped our budget, our authority. Alby, pudgy Corny who knows? Who cares? You won't be tested through our ministry. Oh, no mister! Can't be done."

Harry was just trying to keep up. 'Alby? Albus Dumbledore? Pudgy Corny. Harry took a moment and racked his brain for a connection. The Minister maybe? Cornelius Fudge was a portly man…'

"What do you need it for at 14?" She asked, not beating around the bush in the least.

Harry had the distinct impression the woman had a walking cane she would use to poke and prod him with it until he answered.

"I don't want to live with my muggle relatives any longer, I want financial independence and to continue my studies outside of Hogwarts, or have the ability to choose all of those options for myself," Harry responded. He sensed the woman would offer aid if she heard what she wanted.

"Nothing else?" She leaned forward and kept her sceptical beady eyes fixed on him.

Harry didn't want to get into any kind of retelling of his history with a batty old lady he didn't know at all. He kept his face stony and shook his head.

"Fine! You Potters, always so secretive, the whole lot of you!" She exclaimed, lightly.

Before he knew it, she had a rat, a ferret and an owl spread out on the table. They must all be petrified because none of the three animals were moving at all. If they were fakes, they were incredibly well done. The owl even looked the same as the one Natalia had brought to practice with at their first study session.

"Change it to red, shrink it, then enlarge it." She commanded and pointed to the rat at the far side of the table.

He flourished his wand quickly and then did as she asked completing it with style. The rat had a multi-toned red colour with a light red disposition taking up most of its body aside from the two thick dark red parallel lines running down the length of its body from head to tail. He grinned as it looked like a racing rat; if a racing rat was painted like a classic American muscle car. He didn't wait for directions to move to the next stage, he just focused and silently used the shrinking charm to make the rat as small as a box of matches. After he let it stabilize for a couple of seconds, he quickly cast the enlarging charm and watched as the racing stripe clad red rat grew to be the size of a small dog. After glancing at Grisy, who nodded, he shrunk it back down to the proper size and removed the colour changing charm.

"Vanish the ferret." She said as soon as he had completed the first task.

Harry had a little trouble with the vanishing spell when he first used it. However, it was transfiguration and it didn't take long to perfect. He expeditiously cast the _Evanesco_ spell, wordlessly, and the ugly white ferret was gone without a trace it previously existed.

"Change the owl into opera glasses." She said, not commenting on his impressive displays.

Harry smiled widely knowing how easy this was going to be. He'd have to tell the brat about this. Harry quickly repeated what he did for Natalia except he went to show off even more. He set a flower pattern to the body pieces of the exterior that matched Madame Marchbanks handbag.

"Silent, perfection, and with distinct modifications. You seem to be using NEWT calibre spells. Tofty will be most displeased you won't be testing with him." Marchbanks idly commented. It had been amazing for Harry to see the old woman switch into her work mode. Her quirks had disappeared and she played the part of an old lectern professor to a T. "You Potters are all the same and love to do things in style. I had to know. Yes.. yes... can't be going along with the Potter anarchy for you to fail."

Griselda swooped her wand in a slow arc packing up the rat and opera glasses right back into her handbag. She sipped her tea and dunked her biscuit in it taking her time to properly wet it before depositing it into her wrinkled mouth. "Boy-Who-Lived emancipated at fourteen, quite the headline there, deary." She resumed alternating between dunking and eating her biscuit between sips of her tea.

Harry sat wide-eyed in his chair trying to keep up with the thought processes that flew past at Mach speed. "Madame, I'm not emancipated yet. I need to write the three OWLs and didn't you just say the Ministry won't let you schedule my exams before the end of the tournament?"

She expressed no doubt he would be emancipated if he could take the exams. She seemed to think he was past OWL level and that was quite the confidence booster. This old lady confused the hell out of him but she fondly reminded him of how LaCroix boosted his confidence.

"Keep up deary. Take your exams at the ICW. Have them owl me the results directly and send the memory too since we cannot disappoint poor ol' Tofty." She hadn't bothered to look up at him as she kept up her devouring of the biscuits and tea.

"Pardon me for my ignorance as I really don't know how the examinations work. Did you just tell me I can schedule my exams through the ICW and as long as they owl you directly, the results and memory of the examinations, I will be emancipated?" He hadn't shown it before but his spirits were downtrodden when she told him he wouldn't be able to take the exams. He didn't want to return to Hogwarts without having that ace tucked up his sleeve. He was tired of people meddling in his life.

"With the ICW treaty, the Wizarding Examinations Board just has to rubber-stamp the approval. No precedent for blocking it but the ministry toadies will try and block it if they know about it. You'd be blocked if you failed any of them or scored poorly, deary. Pass the exams you will. Don't forget to send wee Sammy to me for the article." Griselda picked up her tea mug and finished the remainder of what was left in it before abruptly standing.

She picked up her bag and briskly strolled to the door. "Goodbye little Potter, you Potters always cause such wondrous ruckus. Augy will be so jealous of the chaos. This will be the most fun I've had since Charlie and Arty were around. Good day, deary." She dispelled his spells and strode out the door.

Again, she must have cast the gravity amplification charm on his jaw. He used his hand, again, to lift it back in place.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It took him a minute to collect himself and get over Hurricane Grisy. Once Harry was ready, he exited the Leaky Cauldron and headed into Diagon Alley; he had quite a few gifts to pick up. He thought he should be the bigger man and get presents for everyone he would have in the previous years and for all his new ballet academy friends. Some of the items he could owl order and the items he bought in-store could be delivered to the recipient on his behalf. He'd mentally prepared a list so he could get in and out as quickly as possible. For Ron, and his dormmates, he'd send them quidditch magazines. Hermione was simple, he could get her some store credit if he didn't find a book she would be interested in.

This year, he would branch out a little beyond just the few gifts he traditionally gave. As Lacroix told him, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. He would buy something for the quidditch team, nothing expensive the idea was just to make sure they knew he thought of them by giving a gift. Ginny, he would add in just because she was Ron's sister. He would possibly get something for Percy for his unknown dating example that worked so far with Natalia. He could send Sirius a care package. Perhaps, he should get gifts just to confuse people too; he could send Dumbledore a random gift. The only ones he was putting real effort into were the most recent acquainted females. He had learned jewellery would be appropriate, although he knew a ring of any kind could misconstrue the message he wanted to send.

With that firmly in mind, he made his way to the wizarding jewellery store, _Smith's Jewelry._ Harry opened the door and made his way into the shop. It was a rather small shop. A few display cases set up on the open floor plan with most of the merchandise set in an L shaped configuration which sat in front of the proprietor of the store.

"Season's greetings young man," The fellow said in a kindly manner, "anything I can help with?"

He knew nothing about jewellery, really, so why not ask the guy who did it for a living?

"Yes, some help would be great." Seeing the quick nod from the man, he explained his needs. "I'm looking for a few gifts. Two sisters, one around my age and the other a couple years younger, I'm looking to get a thank you gift for. I'd like to get something that says thanks but is also clear it's just a friendly thanks."

"It's got to be quite the gift to match quite the favour…" He mumbled to himself. From the way his facial features lit up, the jeweller seemed to have an idea. He lowered his right arm and began to move towards his right when he stopped, abruptly. "Do you have a price limit?" He asked.

"Well… nothing too crazy; I don't mind spending a bit on them." Harry supplied back. It was a bit foolish to not have any idea on how much he wanted to spend, nevertheless, he was already in the shop and would roll with it.

"Very well, come look at these." He replied as he'd moved down two display cases and pulled out his wand. He used it to manipulate what was being shown. The display cases were not simple muggle ones. The product changed through, at least, five variations before it stopped.

"Here, what do you think about these?" He gestured to a whole series of combinations. When Harry leaned forward to get a better look at a set, they moved higher in the display case and seemed to grow in size so he could easily see the details. There was even a small write up on each one, that appeared in midair, with the title above and the description below.

"What colour hair do they have?" He asked the younger teen who was focused on reading the information about the various products.

Harry quirked his head back. What colour did they have? He danced with them five times a week. He really should be able to answer. It wasn't black. Brown?

"Blonde." Harry was mentally pleased he was able to remember so quick.

"What type of blonde?" The man asked looking at him expectantly.

Harry's eyes widened, comically. "There's more than one?"

Like a balloon deflating from air lossage, the man visibly shrunk. "Yes, there's more than one type of blonde hair." He rolled his eyes at the naivety of the typical teen boy. "There are many variations and when picking jewellery such things matter. You can't buy earrings that clash with the woman's hair colour."

He shook his head at the ill-educated boy and continued. "Off the top of my head, here are some of the different types: platinum, strawberry, baby, golden, ash, honey, dirty, and I'm sure they've invented all manners of new names for the various colourations and styles that go in and out of style." Seeing that he'd lost the poor boy, he simplified. "How about this, tell me is it light or dark? Red, brown or yellow?"

After hearing the final question, his eyes began tracking from one corner to the other, back and forth as he tried to remember.

"Light and, uh, yellow?" He said.

The man nodded and brought out a picture with hair colour rather similar to the Fairmont girls. "Like this?"

"Yes, though maybe a touch lighter." Harry agreed happy he'd worked it out, with a little help.

"Okay, and their skin tone?" The jeweller asked.

There were matching groans from the two males. The store owner could tell from young man's paling face he had another set of explanations in front of him and Harry couldn't believe how bloody complicated this was. 'Why couldn't this be as easy as getting a book for Hermione?' He thought.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry returned to the chamber with quite a few more galleons spent than planned. All of the gifts for the students attending Hogwarts were set to be delivered for him. The only ones he had to deliver himself were for Anna, Hannah and Madame Lacroix. He still had the large issue of not yet having a gift for Natalia. There were a couple of emergency options at _Smith's Jewelry_ but he didn't feel any of them were right.

He ended up with a package set for the two sisters. Each would get a Milgrain Diamond and Gemstone Halo Necklace, whatever that meant, with matching oval stud earrings. They were perfect for their age group. Casual enough to wear with blue jeans and still elegant enough to pair with a fine evening gown. That was the sales pitch at least. Mr Smith, the jeweller, promised they would be over the moon for the gift. He hoped so as it cost more than he anticipated.

For Lacroix, he had actually used his memory to think of a gift. Madame Lacroix loved to wear thin necklaces that dangled down her body. Harry had found a white gold necklace that had five pearls set in it. Two opposite each other and one at the bottom of the necklace. Contemporary freshwater pearl earrings to match and he was done... or so he thought at the time. He was then asked if he wanted enchantments. The younger ones got some basic protection charms. Mr Smith described that many families got unenchanted jewellery since they had their own family magic put on them. He decided to buy Lacroix's without any enchantments and wondered if his family vault would have anything like that. The family vault was his final hope for finding something for Natalia. He had a final few days and would be going to see the old crone of a dance instructor first thing in the morning.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry arrived at the dance studio at six-thirty in the morning. He knew Natalia would have already been practising and he normally would be doing his own routine but this was far more urgent. He should have been taking his tests with Marchbanks this week and Gale Wind Grisy blew that right off course. Thankfully, she'd given him a new heading to chart.

Harry moved into the main practice studio and saw his date working. Deciding to be courageous, he walked right up to her. She saw him as he was closing the distance between them.

"Harry wh-" Any other words were unable to be spoken because Harry kissed her right on her lips, and not just a quick chaste peck.

"Hey brat, do you know where Madame Lacroix is?" Harry quite enjoyed surprising her. Not only was she supremely startled to see Harry, she had not been expecting a kiss let alone the sweaty hug she was now enveloped in. Nevertheless, she wasn't going to complain and was going to take advantage of the situation. She pushed herself up a little further, rocking onto her toes, and she kissed him this time not even bothering to consider answering his query.

She smiled at him. "What are you doing here?!"

Harry was enjoying this happy flustered version of the older girl. "I just told you. I'm looking for Madame Lacroix. Are you sure we got it right? I thought I was the dolt and _you_ were the brat." He gave her a lopsided grin.

She scowled hearing his words. "You can be both: a dolt and a brat!" She poked him in between his ribs eliciting a responding grunt from Harry. He hadn't seen the poke coming as he had his arms wrapped around the ballerina.

"Well, are you going to answer me?" Harry asked as he extricated himself out of the hug and used his hand to rub the spot where he received the less than delicate prod.

"Are you saying you didn't come this early just to see me?" She pouted at him.

Harry was still rubbing his ribs, a visceral reminder of what another rejoinder may cause. "Of course, I came to see you!" He half lied.

"Mmm, and it was quite the nice greeting," she smiled in memory of the first time he had initiated a kiss, blood rampantly plundering her face's capillaries.

"Am I interrupting something?" A dour Madame Lacroix asked projecting her voice. Both teens whipped their heads around to look at the dance instructor. Neither responded as they fruitlessly fought off the effects of their embarrassment.

"You, Mr Potter, are certainly interrupting something." Harry sheepishly avoided the gaze of the impervious instructor. "Just what are you here for?" Her relentlessly severe manner hadn't softened one iota.

Natalia had turned and tried to make it seem like she was practising her movements again. She shot a challenging look back at Harry, daring him to change his answer.

"Well… you see, I, err...I wanted…wanted…." A tactical analysis was needed, stat! A multifaceted battle plan on how to not rile up the splenetic sophist and the brusque brunette. Easy, distract with jingly jewellery!

"I wanted Natalia to see the gifts I got for Anna and Hanna; I thought she could tell me if I did well or not." Harry did his absolute best to put up a faux innocence across his entire demeanour.

Regardless of whether they saw through his ruse, it was a legitimate reason he could be here. He reached into his pocket and pulled the two boxes out and passed one over to Natalia, who had hurried back to him, and the second box of jewellery he floated to Lacroix, who was walking over towards the two now.

"Wow, these are really nice! You have good taste, Harry." Natalia said as she looked at the amethyst set.

Harry looked back towards Madame Lacroix and saw her as she opened the topaz ones. She regarded them carefully before commenting.

"Agreed, tasteful, refined, and all things considered, an appropriate selection. Did you pick them yourself?" She asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, I had the jeweller's help. I made the final decision, but he helped refine the selection to a couple of options and educated me on different cuts, colours, clarity and such."

"Yes, most young men don't learn that until they are purchasing an engagement ring," Lacroix replied knowingly.

"So you got me a set for my Yule gift?" Natalia asked, nibbling on her bottom lip.

"Who says I'm getting you a Yule gift?" Harry teased.

Natalia opened her mouth to riposte the retort but the third occupant in the room broke in first.

"I say you will. Now, enough distractions! Natalia back to work; Harry with me." Lacroix declared leaving no opportunity to broker an argument.

Harry heard Natalia grumpily sigh. He turned his eyes back towards her and gave the ballerina a tentative smile and jaunty wave. The young ballerina tried to mouth something but Harry didn't quite catch it. He briskly trooped after Lacroix who, unsurprisingly, headed to her office. Harry entered into the familiar office space. She sat behind her desk and the sour look on her face hadn't sweetened up at all.

"Why are you really at my studio?" Madame Lacroix asked; the flaring of her nostrils was not a good sign.

"I actually came to talk to you," Harry replied honestly, with the nerves that had been pooling in the depths of his belly since yesterday's talk with Hurricane Grisy, trying to return to prominence.

"And what is so paramount you had to come so early?" Her lips thinned again after she finished speaking.

"The Ministry of Magic is blocking my attempt to write the three OWLs I was supposed to complete this week. Griselda Marchbanks told me to write them at the ICW. As you have homeschooled dancers I was hoping you'd know who to contact; I wasn't told."

"I see." She responded curtly. "You are aware that this being Monday, December 21st they are more than likely away for the holidays?" The tone and mannerism indicated she clearly thought it was a total waste of time to pursue.

"Make a floo call for the 'ICW Department of Education." If there is anyone working, you will need to ask for Madame Duvall." She turned her attention the paperwork in front of him and shooed him off with her left hand. Harry didn't need to be told twice. He stood to leave and just as he got into the doorway he heard a parting reminder to not be late to his dance lesson this evening. They'd discussed on Saturday that they would continue lessons. However, Natalia was out of school and would be able to practice with him this week. Excluding the twenty-fourth, this week they would be working on the specific choreography for the opening few dances.

Harry made it to the floo, and after using the floo powder, he did exactly as he was instructed.

Harry arrived in an office with a reception desk that sat underneath the large sign denoting he was in the exact place he had wanted to be. Harry moved further into the office and saw the reception desk was void of a person. Being unsure of what to do, Harry stood at the front desk and waited while looking around.

After a minute of waiting, a voice broke him out of his boredom.

"Mister Potter, we didn't expect to see you here until nine. Well, with three exams to complete today this does give us more time." Harry turned to locate the source of the voice. A short, and thin, woman with black hair and soft features was smiling gently at him. "Come this way Mister Potter, we aren't quite ready yet but we shall be shortly," she gestured for him to follow and Harry found himself following the woman who had yet to introduce herself.

As they walked, Harry had to ask the questions that were racing through his mind. "Why were you expecting me?"

The woman glanced back at him as she continued towards whatever destination they were heading to. "Madame Marchbanks dropped in for a quick chat; she let us know you would be coming today to write your owls in Charms, DADA and Transfiguration."

She said it as if she was just reporting the agenda for just another day.

Harry wasn't exactly sure what to make of this. "And Hurricane Grisy didn't feel like mentioning it to me nor who to contact…" He mumbled under his breath.

The still-unidentified woman heard it and looked at him brightly. "Oh good! You did meet ol' Grisy Bear properly then!" She tilted her head to the side. "Hurricane Grisy." She tried, testing out the words coming off her tongue. "Yes, that is rather apt," she nodded to herself and continued, "I've always seen her as more of a grizzly bear; she comes rumbling in and mauls you." She pondered her own words for a moment. "Hurricane Grisy, I like it. The devastation she leaves in her wake _is _much more hurricane-like than a bear. Though, I do like the Grisy Bear versus Grizzly Bear better."

"The look you have is about the same look I used to get before I got used to Mad Marchy." She told him fully amused by the dumbfounded look he was sporting.

"I'm glad it's not just me," Harry was relieved as he started his reply, "she scheduled a meeting and even when taking the time to dunk her biscuits in her tea, the woman just didn't stop. She was in and out and didn't even make sense half the time."

The woman laughed. "What do you think happens if you spend more than a century giving the same set of exams to teenagers?" She prompted him to ponder. "She's been at this so long that she was the proctor of Albus Dumbledore's NEWTs. As she would tell you, she didn't do his OWL exams, that was Tofty's father." She grinned before going on, "My personal theory, you see, is that she spends all her time at work so rigid and proper and is quite sick of it. Now, whenever she gets a chance she deliberately causes chaos, and I mean chaos with a capital C."

Harry looked at her sceptically. He'd had one experience with the madness that was Hurricane Grisy but he still wondered if his memory was playing tricks on him.

"Yesterday, Ol' Grisy Bear came barging through my floo, and I didn't even know she had the Duvall home floo address, telling me Harry Potter, of all people, would be coming to take his three OWL exams with us tomorrow. I'm to arrange it for the 21st at nine a.m. and have the results to her on the 22nd. She'll confirm them for you on the 23rd while I'm to be prepared for 'wee sammy' to contact our department and respond. On the 24th, 'wee sammy's article will release the hornets, the bees, the wasps and even yellow jackets'. Harry thought she did quite the impression of the last line; it was eerily familiar to the way Gale Wind Grisy delivered it in person.

"I mean, I thought she may have just gone off the rocker this time. Yet, here you stand and I wonder if the madness is seeping into me yet. I'm a half-century at this and here I am taking this all in like it's not a big deal." Remembering the encounter, she shook herself, clearly, lucidity was accompanied by an aftershock.

"Well, I think you are sane so far." Harry grinned at her, trying to console the woman from her unavoidable fate.

"Says the young man taking three OWL exams in a single day; your wits are clearly suspect." She quipped back, her mouth curving into a smile.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"At least now I don't feel so bad when you were helping me. I mean, they did everything _but_ say you were the next Merlin."

"Hey, it wasn't that bad. I mea-"

"Yes, it was! Did you even read it?" Natalia cut Harry's reply off. "Here, actually read it this time!" She exclaimed shoving the article back into his hands.

The two were back on their bench; the place they'd shared their first kiss and a spot that was becoming special to them. The articles on his full, irreversible, emancipation had been released in the newspaper this morning. How the hell did Natalia know he'd just skimmed them?

_ **The Boy-Who-Became-An-Adult** _

_Samantha Roberts_

_Yesterday, paperwork was filed that led to the full, legal and magical, emancipation of Harry James Potter. It is almost an unprecedented event for a fourteen-year-old to be given the full rights and responsibilities of an adult and all that it entails._

_Harry Potter has taken advantage of his forced participation in the Triwizard Tournament. The bylaws for the historic tournament were updated so only those 'of age' were allowed to compete. In the eyes of magic, the moment his name came out of the cup, he was considered an adult and the underage monitoring would have ceased to exist. Albus Dumbledore, Bartemius Crouch, and Ludovic Bagman all approved of the selection of a minor and did not try to limit or put conditions on Mr Potter's inclusion. The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Harry Potter's magical guardian, the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, and two Department Heads of the Ministry of Magic all gave tacit agreement to the silent declaration of his magical emancipation._

_There is a single law that could have been used to stop Harry Potter from becoming an adult wizard. Adult wizards that have not completed the wanded owl exams, with a passing grade, are not granted the right to have a wand. On December 21st, the final blockade was eradicated…_

"Look, I'm this far," Harry said as he stopped reading and pointed to the spot he had gotten to. "I don't see anything that is really all that important yet."

Natalia slapped his arm. "Not that one, you dolt! The article on your exam scores." She sighed, far louder than was natural, in mild frustration.

"Well, you should have handed me the right article, you brat!" Harry retorted while bumping his body against hers. Natalia fake pouted at him briefly before she wrapped her arms around him as he began to read the next article.

_ **Harry Potter Scores Unprecedented OWL Results!** _

_Samantha Roberts_

_As part of his quest to gain emancipation, Harry Potter completed the three OWL examinations taking all of the written and practical tests on a single day. He took the OWLs at the ICW's Department of Education. While Harry Potter was not interviewed for this article, Griselda Marchbanks, the Department Head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority for the Ministry, explained the circumstances that led to the event._

"_There was an emergency amendment to the budget for our department you see. I had the polite young man scheduled to take his examinations just the same as for those that do not attend Hogwarts. Unfortunately, all expenses invoiced were denied and any attempts at booking a room to conduct testing at the Ministry were revoked. Testing approval was only given after the identity of the student was given. It has been a long-standing policy that the student's names are kept anonymous from both the Ministry and examiner to prevent bias."_

_Clearly, the Ministry became aware that Mr Potter may seek emancipation and sought to block his attempts. It is a great loss for our country given the spectacular results as Senior Examiner Professor Tofty explained:_

"_Our nation has been able to boast some of the best and brightest students over the centuries. Scores that have corroborated, and are seen as the true markings of, our magical education system. We boast the two highest NEWT scores ever recorded by Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle. Sadly, we have forever lost the opportunity to compare his OWL results to theirs."_

_NEWT examinations are an international standard. Each year, the same exam is used across every member nation of the ICW. The ICW's DoE has recommended another series of major testing, prior to the NEWTS, and each school of magic sets their own standard. The OWL examinations given this year at Hogwarts will not be the same as the one Harry Potter took at the ICW._

_As Professor Tofty lamented in the interview, we have lost the ability to see where Harry Potter ranks against our nations finest and driving him off our shores for such a simple matter. The score results have been released, with permission from Mr Potter. In all three subjects, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration, he scored O+ with merits of distinction. Mari Duvall, the ICW's Head of the DoE, explained the results:_

"_His control over his magic was far beyond what we usually see. Silent casting, minimal wand movement and such mastery over the assigned spellwork. It was past anything we have seen before. There are no, official, results that we can claim to even be within the same league. To have accomplished such a feat a year early is truly astonishing. It will be a highlight of my career."_

_The Ministry of Magic did not respond to the request for a comment on the article and…._

"What in here says anything like Merlin? I'm this far," he said pointing his finger to the place he had stopped reading, "and nothing mentions anything close to that."

She rolled her eyes at him and good kindly scolded him. "Keep reading, you impatient dolt."

_Harry Potter has the highest recorded OWL results with the only close, unofficial, candidate in contention being Gellert Grindelwald. He took the ICW OWL exams at sixteen. His scores are not kept as a part of the official records due to his age at the time of the examinations. At fourteen, Harry Potter's results place him above Grindelwald's unofficial score. It is more noteworthy because the third-highest NEWT score ever recorded was completed the following year by Gellert Grindelwald…_

"You mean this part?" Harry asked.

She looked down to where he was mentioning. "Obviously." She drawled.

"It doesn't say I'm going to be the next Merlin, you brat." Harry chided her.

"No, it just _implies_ you are already ahead two years younger and achieved better results than the wanker that cut a path through Europe and scored the third-highest NEWT score ever. Nothing there at _all_ says _anything_ like that," she finished sarcastically.

"It does not!" Harry protested. "I wrote just three exams. The others wrote their full course load and I'm behind in every class except those three." Harry argued his point further.

"Whatever you say, _Merlin_." Her nose crinkled as she laughed at his souring face from hearing the name.

"Keep it up, brat and I won't give you your Yule gift a day early." Harry gave her a smug look knowing _exactly_ how she would react.

"Early?!" She sat upright and looked earnestly into his eyes. "Do you have with you now?" Her voice was tinged with longing and a slight hint of desperation.

"Maybe," Harry responded, enjoying drawing this out.

In a surprise move, she grabbed his head and started kissing him. His mind went blank as he was busy feeling all the passion she was putting into the kiss. She withdrew and they both took a breath.

"Do I get it now"? She asked, batting her eyelashes seductively at him.

"What…" Harry was still in shock and Natalia smirked.

Thankfully, his mind quickly jumped back into action and he remembered what they were discussing before the kiss. "That was not a fair move, and just for that, you won't be getting your gift now," Harry said while fighting off the effects of the now sulking beautiful girl next to him.

"You are too easy. All is fair in love and war, dolt." She sat on Harry's lap and gave a small wiggle. Natalia coyly watched him and continued to wiggle a little more.

'Two can play this game' Harry thought and pulled her in for a kiss. This time, her tongue demanded entrance into his mouth. They had never done this before, and as was typical, he let her lead. Their tongues danced around each other. Once again, they withdrew when they needed air. Harry looked at an equally breathless Natalia, pleased with himself. Natalia burrowed her head into his chest and hugged him. She didn't tell him that she had liked when Harry took the initiative out of fear that it would increase his ego.

Harry reached into his pocket, pulled out a jewellery box and pulled Natalia's chin up so he could look into her eyes as he spoke. "I know you want a ring, but I'm not ready yet."

"Prat." She said softly as she contorted her body to better look at and receive the present.

Harry chuckled and passed the box to her. With slightly trembling hands, she took it and carefully opened the hinged box. She gasped and her free hand went to her mouth. Inside the box was a half karat round diamond solitaire pendant on a 24-inch chain. Warily, her hand moved to hold the necklace with her dainty fingers neatly picking it up; the solitaire pendant pooled into the palm of her hand.

"Do you like it?" Harry asked, it came out far less nervous than he felt. He'd picked this one and not the jeweller.

"Like it? I love it." She kept staring at the gift for a few seconds before she lifted her chin and looked at him, her eyes full of emotion. "Can you put it on me please?" She managed to breathe out.

"Of course, my lady." He replied gently. Natalia turned and pulled her long hair up and presented herself for the task she'd asked of him. Harry took the necklace out of its restraints and expertly opened the clasp. Mr Smith had told him he should practise so he wasn't a bumbling fool trying to put it on her. He lifted his arms over her head and brought them down so the pendant rested on her chest. Moving his hands behind her neck, he quickly closed the clasp. Natalia turned back so she was sitting beside him looking at the pendant she once again held in her hand. "Thanks, Harry, I love it! It's... it's beautiful," she stopped talking and pulled him in for another kiss. This was a short kiss since she was almost entirely enamoured with the necklace.

She tucked the diamond into her clothing resting it against her skin. When it made contact, she felt something more than just white gold on her body. She asked him hesitantly. "Is..is it enchanted with something?"

Harry nodded then explained. "I gained access to my family vault and was able to find this enchantment. It took a few attempts for it to take but it should be working now."

"A family enchantment?" She asked, awed.

Harry shrugged. "From what I can tell, it's been given as gifts before. It's also not a permanent enchantment; it has to be renewed."

"What does it do?" She was really curious. The feeling of the pendant on her bare skin felt really nice, especially when she was holding it with her hand against her chest.

"When you think about the person who enchanted it, it gives off a minor pulse of my magic. You should be able to feel it and it's supposed to be a comforting presence. Something of me to always be with you whenever you feel anxious." He tried to smile but was cut short by her lips connecting with his again.

As they shared another kiss, he thought how lucky he was to be in this position and he would express his emotions more often if it made her kiss him more.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"You planned to go in those rags?" Lacroix asked when she saw the robes Mrs Weasley had picked up for him this past Summer, which felt like a lifetime ago now.

"No, I knew you'd never let me wear something so plain after all the work you've put into my dancing." Harry grinned at the older woman, enjoying teasing her for once.

"That is correct. Your clothes are in the men's changing room. Natalia is already in the women's changing room getting ready. She has been in there for some time."

"What am I wearing?" Harry inquired.

"Well, muggles wear what is called a tail suit; it features black pants and tailcoat." Seeing the blank look on his face, she explained. "It's like a suit coat but with more glossy lapels and the coat runs down to your buttocks. Black smoothed pants that run up just shy of the bottom of your ribs, a white waistcoat, white shirt, white suspenders and a white bow tie."

"And I'll wear the same as muggle dancers?" He asked sceptically.

"Oh heavens no, we do have magic," Lacroix responded right away.

Harry rolled his eyes, He was certain she took perverse glee trolling him with useless facts just because she could.

She continued, "The style is similar but you don't need a jacket cut for your dancing position. Magic can handle that with ease. You'll have a magical version of what closely resembles a tail suit just with wizarding robe features."

Harry nodded and didn't give her an opportunity to tease him further as he fled to the changing room. Harry quickly showered and began dressing. Fresh undergarments and black dress socks. He put on the white dress shirt and noticed there were not any buttons for the upper half of the shirt, the part that would be visible. He found a long slender box and opened it to find fancy substitutes for the absent standard buttons. Harry didn't really see the difference but he wasn't going to risk complaining. Next, he put on his overly tall pants, tucked, his shirt in, and put on the magical cufflinks. He continued dressing by putting on the white waistcoat. At this point, Harry realized he would need assistance. The suspenders were there and they didn't have any clips to affix to the pants. Further, he had no idea how to actually tie a bow tie. He put on the highly polished dress shoes and made his way back out to find Lacroix.

She was waiting for him. "I see you need my assistance for the finishing touches," she remarked inattentively as she spelled his suspenders, even managing to get them on under the waistcoat he shouldn't have put on first. Next, she used magic to perfect his bow tie. She also fixed his hair, as best as was possible, and completed the outfit with a light grey pocket square. Now that he was all ready, he waited.

"Nervous?" Lacroix asked him.

"Not for dancing." He replied honestly.

"I didn't mean dancing," Lacroix responded with a half-hearted rolling of her eyes.

"I know." He replied softly. "It's hard to explain." Harry took a deep breath trying to find the words to explain his conflicted state of being.

"You've helped me learn to handle myself at these kinds of events. I'm magically far superior to the boy I was and I do feel I'm ready for this." Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair trying to find a way to describe how he was feeling. "It's just I'm going back there and I'm not the same person anymore." His face was showing the discomfort and warring emotions he had for his return to Hogwarts, well the non Chamber of Secrets part anyway.

Lacroix hummed to herself for a brief second before responding. "You have changed in just a few short weeks I've known you and have really come a long way," she gave him a reassuring look as she affectionately placed her hand on his shoulder. "I am proud of you and know you will do well tonight. Natalia will help you; she's been raised in these events. I expect to read all about how glorious Harry Potter's triumphant return was; I already know you two will be front-page news," she patted his shoulder.

"Come, Natalia will be ready momentarily, let's allow her a better entrance so she can properly stun you." She gave Harry a knowing look as the thoughts about his date took his mind off the anxiety he was feeling about seeing all the familiar faces awaiting him tonight. She held her arm to be properly escorted by him.

Harry didn't have to wait long, Natalia came out from the changing rooms and found them in the entryway. Harry's breath was taken away when he caught sight of her. She radiated elegance and beauty. She was in a silver dress, comprised of a fitted bodice with long sleeves and continued into the skirt of her dress which flowed out from her hips falling down covering her legs. The chest had a wide V shape at the top that gave way to a curved diagonal slash that left open skin between her bosom that slipped and flowed down to her opposite hip. Her dress was classy and enticing, showing skin while the tight bodice fully covered her breasts.

Harry assumed the dress was customized for dancing, just as his outfit was. There would be no wardrobe malfunctions that bared anything Natalia preferred covered. Though Harry didn't know it yet, with a slight pulsing of her magic, it would provide skin coloured fabric to seal away any chance of her dress moving and causing a scene from their choreographed movements.

Harry knew he had to say something. He had some lines picked out in his head but none of them fit now that he saw her. He just went with what he was thinking. "You look stunning and I love your dress. You will be the prettiest lady there, as well as the best dancer, and I am fortunate to be taking you."

Natalia blushed under his praise. Harry moved forward and gave her a quick kiss.

"I have no doubt you two will make me proud this evening." Lacroix praised as she smiled at the two of them.

"Are you ready?" She asked the two.

"Yes," Natalia responded softly as she put her hand in Harry's, ready to apparate to the gates of Hogwarts.

Harry looked from Lacroix, who nodded at him, to Natalia.

"Yes," Harry said as he lifted his chin and squared his shoulders.

He had Natalia on his arm and had prepared everything he could for tonight. "Yes, I'm ready."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to end with Harry doing his own rendition of "Let's get ready to rumble!"
> 
> Chapters 8-10 were planned all at once and I wrote out the planned scenes over three chapters. Expect some planning again before the next couple chapters. Overall I know what I want but making it happen takes time.
> 
> I really feel like the story hits its stride at the Yule Ball. Especially since Harry has been hiding away and keeping beyond most everyone's reach. This chapter was the calm before the storm; the next few should be fun. 2x no cuddles in a row! This is not good!
> 
> Beta'd by Haphne24 and being a total gem of a beta Haphne24's working back through the previous chapters. Ch7 re-uploaded. (Haphne24- readers: Salient's being a total kiss ass) Good thing this is rated M! ~sarcasm~
> 
> All the Fav's / Follows / Reviews are appreciated. My PM's are always open to feedback as it helps me become a better writer.


	11. Sucks To Your Ass-Mar

A powerful predator does not allow the poltroon to propagate perpetually. It was no longer permissible to allow this contestation to their absolute authority. None were their equal, especially within their territory. Tonight, their dominion would be undisputed once more. Those that did not bend to their will would face their wrath. They were a being of immense magical power, the very feats they were capable of could fill a whole library of books! One did not become as feared as they were without the faculty to back it up. Their absence had become anathema to their very existence. The hallowed halls were alive with anticipation; excitement burst through the cold. Their prize would learn their actions eventually come home to roost.

Tonight, their elusive prey would return and they would no longer be denied! A being such as they could only be denied for so long. They were a living legend; no upstart quarry could defy them forever. Their luck would run out and when it did... the hunter would claim their prize.

Too long had they tarried! Too long had their prey mocked them! Tonight, the rat would not escape their lair! Burnt hair and charred flesh were back on the menu!

Movement, in the corner of the chamber, caught Cuddles' eye and she dove to vanquish the vermin.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry and Natalia arrived outside the gates of Hogwarts. He offered his arm to her and she took a hold of it. Multiple people were waiting at the gates this evening. Harry could see the unknown people were dressed in auror robes.

"Good evening," Harry called out as he approached the nearest auror.

The purple-haired woman in auror robes, who had been watching them approach, eye's lit up with recognition when she more clearly saw who had called out a greeting to her.

"Wotcher, Mister Potter, and?" The young auror inquired.

"Miss Natalia Pavlova, my enchanting date," Harry responded proudly gesturing to his ravishing date.

"P- Pavlova?" The woman asked, bewildered.

Natalia sniffed in distaste; she didn't appreciate how the young auror spoke her name. "And you are?" She snapped back.

"Auror Tonks." The reply was a little sheepish seeing as how she hadn't meant to have an acerbic reaction to the name. Tonks reminded herself that she had to do better in controlling her expressions. Showing shock in the field could cost her in the field in future undercover missions.

"Auror? Wasn't it Cadet Tonks at the first task?" Harry asked. He remembered a pink-haired woman that dragged him to Madame Bones and if memory served, the stern woman had named her so.

The auror shifted her demeanour and brightly responded. "It _was_ Cadet Tonks but now it's Rookie First Class Auror Tonks!"

"Congratulations. Auror Tonks, we do need to be getting to the castle." Harry was pleased for her but he wanted to get to the castle on time.

"Oh right! We are checking identities although the boss has asked to be notified when you arrive. She mentioned something about a chat… though I don't know what about." She relayed the request.

Harry glanced at Natalia, who indicated it was his call with her body language, and he nodded his assent to the rookie.

Tonks turned and signalled to follow her. She led them to a small tent that had been erected just prior to the gates of the ancient castle.

"She's just inside," Tonks told them as she spelled the flaps open.

Harry thanked her and entered with his date still on his arm. They entered to find another expanded space that was set up with some seating, table and chairs, on one side and on the other was a desk occupied by Director Bones.

"Thank you for meeting with me, I know you need to be in shortly, Mister Potter and…" She trailed off for a second as she looked at his date. "Miss Pavlova, Natalia if I'm not mistaken." There wasn't a negative connotation found within her words.

"You are not; it is a pleasure to meet you Director Bones." Natalia greeted stoically. She acknowledged the auburn-haired witch with a slight curtsey, without detaching herself from Harry.

The elder witch looked at the younger one as she spoke. "Likewise."

She turned to Harry, "I have your apparition license; it says Madame Marchbanks was your examiner. I had the logbooks checked and found it interesting you've never been registered as visiting the Ministry of Magic." The sharp woman was well aware of the kind of games the centenarian witch enjoyed. For some reason, she had done the boy a favour. Harry tried to hide his surprise but he wasn't nearly skilled enough to keep it from the experienced law enforcement officer.

"The logbook would be correct; Madame Marchbanks and I met off-site," Harry replied carefully, keeping his tone flat. He didn't want to be caught in a lie and gave her a Dumbledore-esque response.

"I see." And Amelia Bones really did see what had gone on. It wasn't any worse than the corruption she was unable to stamp out to the pandering pure-bloods and she wouldn't involve herself in something so minor.

"There are two reasons I asked for you this evening. The first is I'd like to request a follow-up meeting, regarding the topics addressed at the previous one." She stopped speaking and waited for a response while observing the interaction between the two. A Pavlova on the arm of a Potter would be making waves.

"That's not a problem, will it be at the same location and have the same people present?" Harry accepted before trying to find out a few more details.

"I think that would be for the best, however, there will be another person in attendance who has the expertise we require." From her tone, there was no room for negotiation of the addition.

She continued on with a less severe tone. "As a part of the security arrangements, we are requesting a blood sample to test for polyjuice and there is a mandatory check for charms and compulsions before you are able to join tonight's festivities."

"Neither of us will be submitting a blood sample." Natalia adamantly stated and quickly squeezed Harry's hand to signal him not to protest. Due to his education on rituals, he was well aware of the importance of blood and was not going to protest.

Amelia inclined her head as she spoke. "As is your right. If you wouldn't mind separating quickly, I can take care of your mandatory check within the privacy of the tent. Otherwise, you will be checked by my aurors prior to entering the gates."

"What kind of detection spells will you be casting?" Harry inquired before willing to subject himself. He saw Natalia's face quirk in approval at his question.

Director Bones gave a quick overview of the charms and then allowed them entry through the gates. A carriage was waiting for them and Harry helped his date into the carriage. Natalia waited for Harry to sit so she could snuggle up against him.

As the carriage began moving, she cast a privacy charm and Harry looked at her. It was normally him that cast those charms because he was a private person and didn't want his personal life being paraded by the press. He pulled his own wand and cast his as he trusted Salazar's spells more than whatever Natalia had cast.

"Harry." She started out softly. "I need to explain something before we get in there and…" She trailed off looking at him with her nerves obviously being tested. "And … well… Pavlova's kind of have a reputation and in public functions, like this one, I need to…. I have to play the part." She watched Harry to see how he would take it.

Harry kept his face guarded, as best he could, as he asked a question. "Was that why you were cold to the auror and Madame Bones? I wondered if it was just nerves…"

Natalia's smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. "Yes, it's a part of it. I'm a Pavlova," she stated the last part pompously. "Especially as Durmstrang is here, I'll need to play the part." She was still watching Harry closely even as the space between them felt larger than it really was.

"How will you change? How do you have to act?" There was a third question he wanted to ask but did not: will I even like you still?

Natalia took a couple of slow and deliberate breaths. She liked Harry and didn't want to ruin the trust she had started to develop with him. "My family is one you do not cross; we are known for being unscrupulous to our rivals. I- I've been taught... how to manipulate and frame conversations… at events like tonight, I'm to show off the prestige of our family and further family interests." She spoke carefully, deliberately, choosing her words and trying to convey her honesty.

Harry's face was blank; he was unreadable to her. She'd never seen his face so devoid of emotion; he'd always looked at her as if she was a precious treasure. "Have you been manipulating me? Framing our conversations?" He asked flatly, green eyes bored through her skull.

Natalia looked down at their hands. She relished their contact, and she took it as a good sign that he hadn't pulled away. "No? Yes? I- I don't know?..." The air between them seemed to still as she spoke.

Harry was frozen. He sat beside her and the small gap between them had never felt wider. "How don't you know? Aren't your actions your own?" He retorted mechanically.

She didn't respond immediately. She took a moment to carefully wade her words through the gulf that was now between them. "It's kind of just like walking? I… I just kind of do it; I don't think about it. I tried to show you me, the real me. The person nobody sees… well, nobody beside Lacroix." She couldn't meet his eyes; she looked out the carriage to avoid his gaze.

"Why tell me now?" He queried a final question in the same voice, devoid of emotion.

The ballerina swallowed, thickly. She did turn back to him for this. He had to know this was real. "I like you Harry, not Harry Potter - the boy-who-lived. I like the dolt I've gotten to know…" Her eyes shone with emotion. She pressed on hoping to will him to understand her sincerity. "You like me. The ballerina, the dancer, the girl who struggled with Transfiguration, the brat I can be…" She paused to collect herself as a tear escaped.

"My family doesn't have a good reputation," she laughed a hollow, humourless, laugh. "And it's well earned." The statement was no rejoinder, it was a statement of fact by the silver-clad young woman. "But I'm just Natalia; the same girl who hides in the ballet academy." She hung her head shaking it softly.

Harry didn't interrupt, he was waiting for her to finish whatever it was that she hadn't finished saying to him.

She brought her chin back up, though it was still dipped from its natural height. "I _want_ to help you. I want to shield you, to frame conversations to your advantage, to help you socialize and to work the room. I can help you enchant and beguile the press. I just… I just didn't want to put on my mask… to show another side and loose what's been building between us." She rubbed her thumb across his hand trying to reassure him of her feelings.

She turned her body further towards him before she spoke at a level that was scarcely more than a whisper. "I was a coward." Her shoulder slumped, slightly, as she admitted it. "I should have told you before I kissed you." She looked upset with herself as she confessed another mistake.

"I didn't even plan on kissing you; my parents wouldn't be pleased if they knew… I haven't even told them about you," she chuckled in self-depreciation. "I've been telling them I've been doing extra work on my ballet or that I've been doing extra studying at Durmstrang."

Harry interrupted her to ask a question that he needed to know the answer to. "Why didn't you tell your parents about us? Have you ever told anyone?"

She could see the vulnerability, and how he was thinking that she was ashamed to be romantically involved with him. "Harry." She spoke firmly to get his attention. "I didn't tell anyone because I was selfish. I like Harry, the dolt; I like being _your_ brat and I wanted us to stay just us. I didn't want me being a Pavlova or you a Potter to wreck it. Not that I'm going on dates with a celebrity that could be used by my family. I wanted _you_ to myself," her voice strong and her earnestness coming through in her voice.

"I want to help you," she stopped rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand and just squeezed it, lightly. "I want to be on your arm and kiss you because _I _want to, not because my family approves of it." Her voice rose in both passion and volume. She wasn't holding anything back and hoped she hadn't wrecked things. She stayed silent as she watched him, awaiting his response.

The carriage continued along towards the castle. Slowly plodding its way to its destination on this cold, cloudless, night. The setting serene, the silence beautiful. The thestral drawn carriage was decorated for Yule. The entire pathway was lined with festive fire and assorted decorations. The skeletal winged horses pulling the carriage were dissimilar to the festive atmosphere just as the exterior ambience was a stark contrast to the tenseness within the carriage.

Harry felt blindsided and betrayed. He'd been trying to become independent. Now, one of the best parts of his new lease on life was telling him this. He'd been quiet, stoic even, trying to analyze the situation. His mind was a torrent; it was overflowing with thoughts and cascading emotions. He was trying to think rationally and his body wasn't cooperating. The only thing certain was he still needed her to be his date tonight.

Natalia's quiet and timid voice broke the lingering silence. "If- if you want… I can feign sickness after the opening dance… it's the quickest our evening together can end without scandal." She stared at her shoes and squeezed Harry's hand. Her offer cut through the deluge bogging down his mind; he could _feel_ the hurt in her voice as she spoke, the underlying guilt.

He thought her offer was genuine. Harry didn't respond with words, he still didn't know what to say. He knew what he felt and went with the reaction that felt necessary. He took his hand out of hers and pulled her in for a hug. The moment seemed to last forever. Natalia had burrowed her head into his chest again and he planted a few kisses on the top of her head. "It's better you told me now than later." He murmured into her ear. "I do like Natalia, even when you're a brat." He ran his arm up the exposed skin on her back, rubbed it affectionately. "We can discuss this later after we enjoy an awesome date together." Harry picked up her chin as he spoke and kissed her tenderly. She melted into it. Neither would be able to say how long they had sat. It was Harry that realized they would be getting to the castle in short order and they should resolve their discussion.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Come this way, Potter." The cold look he received from Snape was something he expected though he had thought a more suitable professor would be greeting them. Nevertheless, as he descended from the carriage he turned back and helped his date out. He was thankful it was such a nice clear evening. A proper Scottish downpour would have been right nasty, even though he now knew the charm to keep themselves dry.

Natalia took his presented arm and they made their way into the castle following after the professor.

"Where are the champions congregating, Professor?" Harry called after the man. He recognized they were not heading towards the Great Hall.

"They will gather in the antechamber prior to the opening of the ball." He responded curtly, his expression surly as he spoke.

"Why are we not headed there?" Harry asked, even though he likely knew the answer.

"You were to be escorted to the headmaster's office upon your arrival." He snapped back without breaking stride.

"And, why is that?" Harry had known Dumbledore would not let him off easily tonight but he had thought it would come during the ball, not prior to it.

"You'll find out when we arrive. Your date may make her way there, now." Again the Head of Slytherin continued to walk as he answered the young man's questions.

Harry slowed his movements coming to a stop. Natalia gave him a look Harry interpreted as questioning if he was really going to go along with this. "Professor, I will not be separated from Natalia and we will be making our way to the antechamber," Harry told him with a stern voice.

Natalia added quickly to his words. "Harry is not a student of this institution and is only in the castle as part of his tournament obligations. Mister Dumbledore will have to schedule for a more appropriate time."

Harry almost snickered aloud when she called the headmaster, Mister Dumbledore.

Severus Snape turned on his heel, robe billowing as he spun, and snapped back at the two teens, "That's Headmaster Dumbledore and you will do as you are told or you will not be attending the ball." His sneer as pronounced as Harry had ever seen before.

"_Mister_ Dumbledore is not my headmaster, he is not my Chief Warlock, this is not an ICW event he is not the Supreme Mugwump, and Order of Merlin is an achievement, not a title. There is not a more formal way for me to address the man unless you think Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is better?" The condescension practically drooled out of her mouth as her tone made it clear just how little she thought of the greasy-haired man she was dressing down.

"Who do you think you are, whelp?" Snape said with narrowed eyes and obvious disdain.

"Natalia Pavlova, Harry Potter's date, and you best remember it." She contemptuously smiled as the Potions Professor took his first real look at the young woman.

The look of surprise on Snape's face was utterly alien. The two teens took the lack of response as the end of the conversation. They strode back off toward the antechamber.

"What a pleasant man, do all your teachers like you so?" Natalia teased Harry.

Harry gave a light laugh at her quip. "He's hated me since the moment he saw me and the best I can figure is it's because of my parents. I'm glad that I'll never have a class with the wanker again and I'm not a student here so he has no authority over me. Let's switch to more pleasant topics. After all, I am attending a ball with the best looking lady on my arm." Harry winked at Natalia and her cheeks tinged with a slight red hue.

Harry had been told he should arrive at least fifteen minutes prior to the Yule Ball but he had come half an hour early. The halls of Hogwarts were not full of students yet and the few who they did cross paths with, Harry did not know well enough to stop and speak with. Everyone they crossed paths with did a double-take. This was not the short scrawny Harry Potter wearing school robes with hand-me-down clothes underneath. This was the newly emancipated Harry Potter, an adult wearing spectacular custom robes with a stunning young woman on his arms. His posture was taller, his chin higher and his strides purposeful. A young man who was comfortable in his own skin and ready to conquer the night.

The two didn't speak as they walked, arm in arm. They arrived at the room the first years congregated in prior to the Welcoming Feast and entered. Harry held the door open for Natalia, allowing her to enter first. She stepped inside and Harry looked for the person he had asked to meet him before the ball. Seeing her, he directed Natalia straight for her.

They were still early, and there were only two occupants in the room: Transfiguration Mistress Minerva McGonagall and Daily Prophet Reporter Samantha Roberts. They appeared to be a slightly strained conversation going on between them.

"Good evening Sam." Seeing he had the full attention of the reporter, as well as McGonagall, Harry introduced his date. "Allow me to introduce my delightful date, Miss Natalia Pavlova." Harry accompanied his declaration with a quarter-turn of his body and the arm not attached to his date gave a grand sweeping gesture.

Natalia bumped her shoulder into Harry for his over the top theatrics as he continued the introductions. "Natalia, this is Samantha Roberts, the lovely reporter that will have a quick chat with us before the ball begins, and the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall." He informed his date gesturing to the two women in turn.

Both elder women were surprised to hear just who Harry's date was, McGonagall even had an audible light intake of air when he spoke her last name. Harry had seen the slight change in Sam's demeanour that the veteran reporter schooled quickly.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Pavlova." Neither of the two moved forward to shake hands like muggles. Roberts gave a very minor bow and head tilt to acknowledge the younger woman. "Feel free to call me Sam, as Harry does," she said politely.

"Natalia is fine then, Sam," Harry's date responded sweetly before addressing McGonagall. "It is great to meet you as well Professor. Meeting such a distinguished academic like yourself is an honour, and that's not even mentioning such an important position at this prestigious institution." Natalia was no longer the shy nervous girl that Harry had encountered. Instead, a confident and charming young woman was on his arm and she was in schmoozing mode.

"It is nice to meet you as well, Miss Pavlova." The aged professor greeted, the politeness did not extend to her face or body language. One might dare to say her reaction hid the opposite.

"Well, Harry, Natalia, did you want to get started so it's taken care of before your evening begins?" Sam asked drawing the attention back to the reason she was even there.

"As I was just telling Miss Roberts, press agents are not permitted to be in the antechamber where the champions will be congregating prior to the ball. You will have to leave." McGonagall informed them.

"We were planning to use privacy charms so it would be quick and discreet but if that is your wish professor we will just be taking a quick few photos and answering some questions. Would you prefer we conduct the interview in the entry hall or is there a classroom we can use?" Harry casually asked.

She adorned him with a glare. The three moved back out of the room and set up privacy charms along the wall of the entrance hall.

"What would you like to do first, Sam?" Harry asked.

"Pictures. Individual then joint, if that's alright." She said as she set up her dictation quill and camera.

"That works," Harry replied, simply, before turning to Natalia. "Ladies first." He gave her a cheeky smile as she minimally stuck out her tongue before moving toward the wall. She turned and walked a couple of feet to be close to the wall.

Harry saw there was a bug of some kind caught up on the back of her shoulder.

Although he didn't have an exhaustive knowledge about women, he was aware that women didn't like bugs on them. Being the gentleman that he was, Harry withdrew his wand and banished the bug off her, splattering it against the floor. Not wanting to leave a mess, he quickly vanished the remains.

"What was that, Harry?" The silver-clad young woman asked.

"Oh, just some bug on your back! I took care of it." He told her.

"Thanks, so thoughtful!" She said, giving him a huge smile.

The photos only took a minute and were followed with questions.

"My first question: are you two dating or courting?" Samantha asked.

Though they hadn't discussed the exact answer to questions, on one of their walks together in Hyde Park they did discuss what they wanted to present to the public.

"No, we met when Harry was getting dance lessons and I guess I caught his eye. He asked me after I volunteered to help him with some extra practice on the weekends and I'm so pleased he did." Natalia told her the partial truth.

Samantha looked at Harry to see if he was going to add anything and he did. "We kind of hit it off and I asked if she would be my date for this evening."

"Where did you take dance lessons? Who was your teacher?" Sam asked, following up after hearing the response to her first question.

"I was fortunate to be taught by Madame Lacroix at the Lacroix Ballet Academy. She is an excellent instructor and you'll see the results of her tutelage." Harry found it odd that he was kind of enjoying the interview. Samantha was polite and asked pretty normal questions.

"The Lacroix Ballet Academy? Madame Lacroix taught you and that is where you met…?" Samantha was having a little bit of a hard time following. She, of course, knew exactly who the Pavlova family were and she also knew of Madame Lacroix. A boutique performing arts studio that put on shows for extremely select clientele. Those invited were among the very elite of Wizarding Europe. It was the kind of exclusive club Professor Slughorn could only dream of cultivating through Hogwarts Alumni.

"Yes, as you may or may not be aware, I am a ballerina and spend quite a lot of my time there. Being a day student at Durmstrang, I didn't have the opportunity to come to Hogwarts this year and it's just wonderful this opportunity came up. Although, going with such a charming and handsome gentleman is the real prize." Natalia gave the two of them a broad smile.

Samantha had recomposed herself fully and asked another question based on her noticing how easily the two were playing off each other. "Have you two been acquainted for a little while then? You two seem to have such natural chemistry."

Harry gave a slightly uneasy look to his date; he wasn't sure how they should best answer.

"Oh not too long," Natalia started answering the question, "It's not hard; he's smart, handsome and funny. What more could a girl want?"

Harry knew he should reply with a compliment of his own. "Like she said, not very long. The first time I saw her, she was dancing. She was practising for ballet and she was just gorgeous. If you think she looks good in this silver number, wait until you see us dance."

"Thanks, Harry," Natalia told him and pecked him on the cheek.

Harry watched as Samantha kept the quill moving, adding her own notes beyond what was said by them. "I didn't get a chance to ask you about your OWL exams. What did you think about being forced to take them at the ICW instead of here in England?"

Harry waited for a moment carefully thinking about his answer before speaking. While stirring up a ruckus was an acceptable price to pay to get his permanent emancipation, he didn't need to create an enemy out of the Ministry. "I didn't really pay attention to it too much. I tried to schedule my exams here and was told it wasn't going to work out. I wanted to be fully emancipated and had other options. It might have been a different story if I had no other option but I was able to write them and that's what matters to me." He kept a positive tone throughout his answer ensuring his language matched his words.

"Did you read my article and see the comments from Professor Tofty and Madame Duvall as well as how your score ranked?" Sam questioned.

"Yes, I read it the day it came out," Harry replied. Their agreement for having limited editorial control not even being hinted at.

"How do you feel about what was said? Would you have liked to have seen your scores compared to Dumbledore's?" She replied to his admission quickly, knowing they didn't have long before they had to get back to the antechamber.

"I'm not really concerned with that kind of thing. I'm my own person and just want to be the best me I can be. It's nice to know I scored really well but it's just the OWLs. I'm just trying to learn as much as I can as quick as I can. This competition was designed for the very best student each school has to offer with more than six years of magical education. I've had half the magical education and am just trying to prepare for it the best I can." He wasn't concerned about records or his fame.

Natalia giggled, drawing their attention. "Harry is so very modest! He tries to make his accomplishments look like they are not a big deal." She gave off another soft giggle before continuing. "I've always been just a good transfiguration student. He showed me how to cast a spell I was struggling to learn. After a single lesson, I am one of the top students and it is all because of him." She grabbed hold of Harry's arm and hugged him. "It's just his nature." She looked at him fondly, fully for Samantha to see and note.

Before Samantha could ask further questions, the alert charm went off. "You need to be back in the antechamber in one minute; I'll see you both inside." She used her wand to pack up everything and hurried off.

Natalia twisted from her position beside Harry and hugged him with her head moving towards his ear. "Your idea was brilliant. She'll have this interview as the front page tomorrow with the viewpoint and information we want." She softly whispered the words in his ear. She moved her head back and gave him an equally soft lingering kiss.

The two linked arms and Harry dispelled the privacy charm. The two made it back, with two minutes to spare, and noticed Harry was the last champion in the room as Cedric, Viktor and Fleur were now in the room. Neither Fleur nor Viktor's dates seemed to be there yet.

Harry felt Natalia pull on his arm, slightly, to indicate he should move toward Krum first. Viktor looked up and his eyes widened noticeably as he took in Harry and his date.

"Viktor, lovely to see you again. Is Elena on her way still?" Before they reached him, she turned her head and spoke quietly into Harry's ear. "Elena is Viktor's fiance."

The surprised expression hadn't vacated its place on his features yet. "Natalia?" He questioned aloud.

"So glad you still recognize me after spending so long off the mainland. I trust you've met my date for the evening, Harry Potter?" The way she spoke to Krum showed familiarity between the two. The easy banter and equal parts mocking and teasing tone made that clear.

"You are Potter's date?" He asked, still off-kilter from the revelation.

"What gave it away? My presence in the room, my place on his arm, or was it when I just told you?" She mocked.

Krum scowled and was saved from responding by Fleur coming up behind him. She was, as always, a vision of beauty. A silver-grey satin gown with red accents, the same colour as Viktor's shirt.

"Natalia, meet my date for this evening, Fleur Delacour. Elena could not be here." He stepped closer towards her, not touching her, enough to show they were together this evening. "Fleur, this is Natalia Pavlova, Harry Potter's date." The deep baritone of his voice matched his deepened scowl as he introduced the two girls.

"Miss Pavlova, 'arry." Fleur gave a polite curtsey as she greeted them which was mirrored by Natalia.

"You look wonderful as well this evening, Fleur," Harry said, being sure to be polite and more outgoing than he was inclined to be.

"And you look dashing yourself 'arry," Fleur responded in kind.

Harry noticed both of the two ravishing young women wore silver dresses. Fleur's dress was simple yet still elegant in its own right. Her beauty is more akin to the perfection of a statue. There was no need to try and dress up what was already a masterpiece. Natalia's silver dress was more intricate and delicately designed. It enhanced her features and showed off her magnificent body.

"Natalia is quite alright, if I may call you Fleur?" Harry marvelled at how his date seemed to be able to work naturally in these situations.

Fleur nodded. She noticed Cedric and his date Cho Chang enter and excused herself to greet them. Following Fleur, he steered Natalia over to Cedric and Cho. "Natalia, this is Cedric Diggory, the Hogwarts Triwizard Champion, and his lovely date this evening is Cho Chang. How they went from chasing after the snitch together, only Merlin knows." Harry added with a wry grin. "Cedric, Cho, this is my date for the evening, the beautiful Natalia Pavlova."

Harry enjoyed the after-effects of his little comment. Viktor seemed to hear the word 'snitch' and his face lost its glower as he seemed to zero in on the conversation to find out if they were talking about the object his professional life was built to pursue. Seeing Cho and Cedric blush was just icing on the cake.

"Pleased to meet you both. Harry's said such great things about you both. Oh, and please call me Natalia, any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine." She smiled widely at them as she curtseyed for another greeting. Harry saw the friendly demeanour from Cedric and the slight narrowing of eyes by Cho.

His former crush on her seemed silly now. Compared to the other two champions, she was a distant third best looking amongst the young females in his opinion.

"Nice to meet you, Natalia, how did a git like Harry trick such a fine young lady into being his date?" Cedric retorted to Harry's earlier teasing with a good-natured shot of his own, with an affable smile on his face.

Cedric's comment elicited a laugh from her and she drew closer to Harry. "He certainly can be a bit of a git at times," she started and patted his cheek as she agreed with Cedric, "But mostly he's a wonderful company and it doesn't hurt that he's so handsome and talented," Natalia disguised her discreet whisper in Harry's ear, to accept the praise that was about to come with a smile and thanks, with a kiss on his cheek.

"'e must be for those OWL results. C'est incroyable!" Fleur praised, interjecting herself back into the conversation. The six were all standing in a loose circle now as they awaited the beginning of the Yule Ball.

"Merci, Fleur." Harry responded. Between the kind words from Fleur and Natalia, his cheeks had gained some pink but he wasn't going to let his natural shyness hold him back.

"Have you been holding back on us? All of Ravenclaw is wondering how you did it." Cho chimed in.

Cedric added to his date as if it was a single sentence. "And not just Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff, Slytherin and even the Gryffindors. I'm not sure what's most impressive, that you scored such high marks or that you wrote three exams in one day! Are you crazy?!"

Harry laughed at Cedric's comment. "Three written exams in one day might have been the most Gryffindor thing I've ever done. By the end of the second exam, I was sure my hand couldn't handle a third one."

"Why did you take them all on one day?" Fleur asked with obvious curiosity.

"I wrote them on Monday and Madame Duvall arranged them even though their office was supposed to be closed. It was write them all at once or wait and I just wanted them over with." Harry answered. The answer seemed to weigh heavy in the air for a moment.

"Now that your emancipated, will be joining Hogwarts again?" Cedric asked with interest, his interest was mirrored by all the others, even McGonagall seemed to be following their conversation closely.

Harry felt Natalia squeeze his arm in silent support, something he appreciated. "I haven't talked to Dumbledore yet, however, I doubt I'll be back this year," Harry stated bluntly. It was a half-lie again as he knew there was no way he was giving up his tutelage from Salazar and returning.

"What do you think about the changes that are being implemented?" Cho asked Harry as Cedric had turned pensive and hadn't continued his line of questioning, so his date did.

"Changes?" He blurted out.

Fleur rapidly responded to his outburst. "You are not aware?" She raised an eyebrow sceptically and a slight frown marred her face.

Harry looked between from Cho to Fleur; he had no idea what they were talking about. Thankfully, Natalia noticed and jumped in to help him right away.

"Harry's tutor is _very _strict. He trains _all_ day and has _very_ limited contact with the outside world. You've all seen the results and it was from following an incredibly strict regime. Before you ask, I have no idea _who_ his tutor is nor even _how_ he trains."

Harry recomposed himself from his previous outburst while he scrutinized how everyone was taking in his date's words. Viktor was glower, as always, and the Hogwarts couple were both surprised again. Fleur frowned and appeared deep in thought.

"You haven't heard about any of the changes? You said you read the article on your OWL scores, how could you have read that and not the following pages?" Cedric asked recalling Harry's previous comment. The popular young man looked a mix between confused, curious and contemplative.

"Well, I can't receive owls where I am. I'm in a very secure and private location. Only my owl can deliver mail to me and I don't have a paper subscription. As Natalia said, I'm busy training and haven't really done anything else besides study magic and learn to dance…"

Any further thought of conversation was cut off as the tournament's organizing committee entered. Bagman, Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Maxime, and rather surprisingly Percy Weasley. Harry noted the ridiculous moustache was missing. The only person he'd met that was more sullen than Krum was Barty Crouch.

"What a marvellous evening! Let's get a quick introduction of the two unknown people and then we'll give you the rundown." Bagman took charge and indicated for the black-haired Asian to introduce herself. It was not her introducing herself though; her date did.

"This is Cho Chang, 5th year Ravenclaw, their house team's seeker, 5th-year prefect and as you can all see a stunning young lady," Cedric spoke eloquently complimenting his date and seamlessly taking on the attention of everyone in the room. The Hufflepuff was charming and personable. Cedric either enjoyed taking the mickey out of his date or seeing her skin redden in the full-body blush that she was now sporting.

After everyone seemed to acknowledge Cho, their eyes all sought out Harry and his date. Harry saw the challenging look Diggory gave him and wasn't going to back down.

"My date for this evening is entrancingly elegant, whose beauty if baffling, she's sensationally smart and wickedly witty. A ballerina whose a dazzling dancer and although I could list her attributes and prominence for the remainder of the evening, we do need to go to the ball this evening. Without further ado, allow me to introduce, the marvellous, Natalia Pavlova." Harry caught the Hogwarts Champions' eyes and smirked at him. He wasn't backing down from a challenge tonight. The exchange distracted him from taking in everyone's reactions. He looked to his date, still clinging to his arm, and was satisfied to see she had blushed as well, though not nearly as much as Cho. Natalia kept her composure better than Cho. She couldn't fully stop the milk pink hue that spread across her face with such attention and kind words from her date.

"And with such fine additions, the night will be even better than we had anticipated." Bagman boomed out effervescently. He stood there beaming at the champions until a cough brought him out of whatever trance he was lost in. He continued and explained on.

"Right, well for this evening, the plan is rather simple. The dignitaries will enter first and go to their assigned seat. Then, the Champions will enter. Viktor and Fleur first," he turned directly to the two as he spoke, "the two of you will be seated at the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang table. There was going to be just a single head table but with the added security, it has been split up into two." Seeing the two indicate they comprehended the words Bagman turned to the two fellow countrymen and their dates. "Now, along with a DMLE presence, there was a raffle, with ticket proceeds going to St Mungo's, and at each of your tables will be an additional person and whoever they have brought for a date." Seeing the intrigued look on their faces, he paused to tease it a little more. "And no I will not say just who they are quite yet." Seeing the disappointment on their faces, Ludo beamed with exuberance. "You'll just have to meet them for yourself."

"First, you will eat dinner and socialize at your table. Following that, the opening dance will take place from our Triwizard Tournament Champions." Harry thought Bagman spoke the same way he announced as he enunciated the last three words as if he was building hype for a quidditch match. "This is the opening event to the rest of the evening. The dance floor will remain open and you are free to talk or dance with anyone at that point. There will be press agents then and feel free to mingle with them and any of your friends. Any questions?"

Harry had one and asked the first one. "You told Krum and Delacour where they will be seated, at the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang table, where will I be seated?" A glance at Natalia showed he had asked a question she wondered herself.

It wasn't Bagman that answered but Percy Weasley. "You will be at the Hogwarts table, of course." He stated as if he was speaking to a child.

"And why would I be seated there?" Harry asked slowly as if Percy was the small child needing a clear explanation.

"You are a Hogwarts student…" Percy responded.

"No, I am not." Harry gave him a belittling look.

Percy tore his gaze off Harry and looked directly at Dumbledore. The room had an absolutely awkward air to it now, it was tangible.

"My boy, you are returning in the new year. Now that you've completed your OWL testing, you are eligible to be re-enrolled for your blended OWL and NEWT studies. It is why I asked Professor Snape to bring you to my office before we met here. You've been enrolled at Hogwarts again, where you belong." Harry had to employ the counting exercises in his head to maintain his calm composure.

"Did you not receive my letter?" He asked, only partially able to unclench his jaw.

"Of course, I did." Dumbledore began his response. "The first stating your withdrawal and the second, where you said we will discuss your return after Yule break."

"I know the letter was sent in Queen's English and I wonder how you could misunderstand such a simple word as _discuss_." He tried to not sneer but there was not even a single alternate dimension where Harry could say the line without it. "I was willing to _discuss_ a _potential_ return. Need I remind you, I am an emancipated minor. You cannot enrol me without my consent and I know I have not agreed to anything." Harry could feel Natalia running her hand up and down his bicep, doing what she could to help her frustrated date.

"If anything, we should be seated with the Durmstrang delegation. Harry has no school affiliation and I, as his date, am a Durmstrang student." Natalia spoke up.

"'arry and Natalia are most welcome to sit with us." Fleur chimed in quickly.

Harry didn't get a chance to look at Fleur as Dumbledore locked eyes with Natalia. "Be that as it may, the seating is set for this evening and we can meet privately to discuss your education." He said in a commanding tone.

Harry saw the Dumbledore effect overtake those in the room. He commanded and people went along with it.

"That's settled then! It is time to get the rest of our dignitaries seated and then McGonagall will direct all of you to enter at the appropriate time. Remember, smile and put on a good show!" Bagman stated.

Harry rolled his eyes _as if he was just going to go along with their plan._ Harry cleared his throat, loudly, to ensure he had everyone's attention. "It's nice you agree, Mister Bagman, but I'm going to have to go with an emphatic no." It took a lot of self-control to not get upset earlier and it was taking greater self-control now to keep himself from laughing at the stunned looks he was seeing.

"What do you mean no?" Percy cut through the surprise to demand an explanation.

"I am not sitting at a Hogwarts table with my date. I repeat. I. Am. Not. A. Hogwarts student. How many times do I need to say it?" Harry was enjoying himself; it was fun to be patronizing and not at the end of it for once.

"The tables are arranged already! The hall is full of people! We can't just change things!" Bagman stated, horrified at the suggestion.

Harry rolled his eyes again. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the small table and two chairs that were on the far wall. He widened and lengthened the table first and then duplicated two more chairs so the small two-person table now sat four.

He looked at Bagman and spoke. "It's really not that hard with magic. If you can't do it yourself, you can ask for volunteers to do it for you. If you told them it was extra credit, half of Ravenclaw would sign up." Harry caught both Cedric and Cho hiding laughs behind their hands; he was glad someone was enjoying this as much as he was.

"This is an event to bring cooperation between the three schools. There were to be four at one table and two at the other. We can easily just switch the champions around in their seating arrangement." Natalia offered as a possible compromise between the two untenable positions.

"Yes… yes! An excellent suggestion Miss Pavlova!" Bagman took the suggestion and ran with it immediately knowing they were now running a little behind. "Harry was right; you are sensationally smart." Ludo praised. "Everyone else is okay with that?" He asked the three other champions.

All of them agreed with Cedric commenting, "It would be nice to have the opportunity to speak with Maxime and Karkaroff to find out more about the visiting schools."

The minor scowl Dumbledore sported made him overjoyed. Nobody else objected and the Headmasters, and Ministry officials left to take their seats in the Great Hall.

McGonagall remained and instructed them into the proper order. Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour first, Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang second, with Harry and Natalia being the final couple to enter.

The two of them stood behind the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw couple. Natalia adjusted her dress slightly and ensured she looked picture perfect. She did the same with Harry and gave him a soft peck on the lips when nobody was looking at them.

"You did well. I thought you might need more help this evening." She commented quietly as to keep the conversation between just the two of them while they waited for their time to enter.

"Thanks, you helped more than you think. You were brilliant with Sam too. I'm glad you are my date." Harry told her.

"Me too." She replied.

A loud call came from the Hall. Bagman was beginning the introductions. "Join me in welcoming the first of this evening's guests of honour: the Triwizard Tournament Champions. The quidditch prodigy and Durmstrang's Champion Viktor Krum and his date for the evening, the beautiful and radiant Champion from Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour!"

McGonagall opened the door and the two entered the hall to loud cheers as they made their way to their seats.

The noise from the hall quieted down and Bagman announced the next couple. "Now, for Hogwarts very own! The Handsome Hufflepuff and his date for the evening, the charming Cho Chang!"

Again, the Deputy Headmistress opened the door and the couple went into the hall amidst boisterous cheering and clapping.

Harry felt some nerves as he stood in front of the door. He pushed them down and made sure he was standing tall and confident. He looked at Natalia who had her free hand around the necklace he had given her the previous day. She let it fall from her hand and Harry could see she was ready.

There was no noise from the hall and Harry knew that meant Bagman was about to introduce them.

"And finally, our youngest and surprising fourth Champion. A young man that needs no introduction, Harry Potter - the boy-who-lived. His date for the evening is the elegant and beautiful ballerina, Natalia Pavlova."

For a third time, McGonagall opened the door. They got their first look into the hall.

Just like their carriage ride, the setting was sublime and the silence expected.

Harry winked at Natalia, gave her hand a squeeze, and whispered, "It's showtime, brat".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Yule Ball was never going to be a single chapter. Like any good fight card you can't just get to the main event (Haphne24: readers, send your angry PM's to Salient for the cliffhangers). There also had to be an obligatory Cuddles scene.
> 
> Aesir21 & CaskettFan5 commented on chapter names - the first four are pretty blah and I wanted to fix that for chapter five and am quite pleased with the rest of them. This chapter keeps it up and I have a good one lined up for the next chapter.
> 
> Thanks again for all the Fav's / Follows / Reviews! They are much appreciated. Got this chapter out faster than I'd anticipated and I'm already working on the next.
> 
> As always, thanks to Haphne24 for another chapter of great beta work!
> 
> Edit: Forgot there were a number of questions about Fleur & Daphne in the reviews. I'm pretty sure I'd mentioned it in a previous AN and I'll make it clear now. Fleur comes back in this Chapter, as was always planned, and becomes a fixture in the story. Daphne I don't think has even been mentioned specifically. I expect it will happen over Yule break but her role comes in the new year. Always has been the plan. Harry is the main character and through whom the story unfolds. OC, Fleur & Daphne all are important characters to the story. I know many stories have all the important characters from chapter 1. I don't.


	12. Actions Have Meaning

**Skip the first part if you're sensitive to reading about sex. It is not a sex scene and the act of sex is discussed in broad terms. It's part of the fic for multiple reasons long-term.**

_There is not a single action that you can take in your life which does not have meaning. Your entire body is infused with magic! Everything you do, everything you intend, everything you think about creatively, or anything you will affect you and therefore your magic. It is a concept that very few have ever studied. And there is a good reason for that! How do you quantify, empirically study, or even record the minuscule effects each individual thought or action has? It is a very difficult concept to grasp and even less well understood._

_One of the areas where the phenomena of 'actions have meaning' can be studied is in the relationships between a man and a woman. It is a known fact that the virtue of a woman is magically sacred. The loss of a woman's virginity should be a significant event to them. Their virginity can only be given up once and their intent and willpower play a key role in the physical act._

_On their wedding night, when a man breaks the hymen of a virgin woman and releases his seed inside of her, there is a magical event of real significance. Muggles believe the significance lies in the memory of the first act. Magically, it is categorically false. When a bride gives her maidenhood, as a gift to her partner, they allow the man to imprint his magic upon them. In the eyes of magic, two become one._

_My heir, let me alleviate your head of any ridiculous notions before they can take root. It is not any form of a bond. It does not allow you to feel each other's emotions nor allow you to share magic, and especially not your thoughts. It does not mean the woman could not marry another. Before I present the magical significance, let me discuss the opposite gender._

_The classical understanding of the imprinting often fails to recognize the reverse. The process is focused on the most impactful single event and not the build-up. Think of it like a wooden bridge collapsing. The single event takes up the entirety of the focus. The investigation finds the root cause to be a support beam had collapsed and recommends studier supports be used in the future. Case closed._

_The investigation failed to understand the stem of the issue. They saw a wilted flower and claimed it was not watered enough. Not that the flower should never have been planted there in the first place. They failed to look deeper than the surface issue and notice the support collapsed because of the design flaw. That the bridge was intended to be temporary and intended for irregular use. Instead, the bridge became an important fixture. The real root cause of the collapse was that they should have planned it out better, used sturdier materials, and ensured they understood the consequences of their actions._

_The final imprinting on the woman is the natural conclusion, the finishing touch, the wilted flower from lack of watering, the surface issue. Do you believe you can intend to be physically intimate with someone and not have it affect you? To will your body to touch theirs, to creatively use your mind to find pleasure? And even dare to think your magic-infused body is not using its power to help you accomplish your goal? The light touches, kisses, hugs, and any form of intended physical or emotional connection will have consequences to your magic. The appendage is bathed in their partner's secretions and then he leaves a part of his magic behind._

_Does the woman not do the same to the man, do they not drench a part of him in their essence and does it not stay with them after completion?_

_Think of it more as the creation of a house. A house is comprised primarily of wood and stone. Using the two substances together in the same structure creates a single house. You do not refer to it by all the individual parts that make up the home. It is difficult to explain to a novice as the mechanics are theoretically beyond even most masters of theoretical magic. The full concepts have not been, and more than likely never will be, fully unravelled to the minds of wizards and witches._

_When a woman intends and wills the loss of their virginity, it is an event very much akin to a ritual. There is the intentional shedding of one's blood and allowing for penetration into their very being. An act, which can be seen as ritualistic in nature, is undertaken and brought to completion. The woman wills her body to accept pain and the loss of their blood to accommodate a physical intrusion. These acts cannot be without consequence. Their magic tries to harmonize with their partner and make them compatible companions. Like all magic, the strength can grow or it can fade. Intent and willpower can change or cease. However, all magic leaves a trace._

_That is not to say one cannot have a successful or happy marriage with a woman who has been imprinted on by another man. Arranged marriages are always a point of contention with muggle raised individuals, especially among the peasants. They fail to understand the importance of magical lineage, bloodline affinities and imprinting. There are consequences to actions that are inherently different. Even Muggles will always recall their first time, that is but a mere fragment of the effect on a witch and wizard._

_The natural process cannot be removed in a non-harmful manner. There is but a single bastardization ritual that destroys the original imprint. It does it in such a way the woman is left unbalanced for the remainder of their days. The woman will have an amplified and unnatural imprint. She will be wholly devoted to the new man and totally unbalanced and the imbalance can have results physically, magically, mentally, in a combination of some or all of them. It is a truly abhorrent ritual and against the very nature of magic. Its use has caused feuds._

_Courtship is incredibly important to wizarding society because it protects the sanctity of the woman. Would you wish to marry a spouse that has been imprinted by another man? Likewise, would you wish to imprint yourself on a woman and have a part of her always longing to stay connected to you? Do not believe imprinting only affects the woman. Even the most chaste acts a man and a woman can find carnal pleasures in have significance._

_You must always remember: Magic is sentient, words have power, and actions have meaning._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry found himself in a most enviable position; he was seated at a table between two young beautiful women that almost every other man in the room would wish was their date. Viktor Krum was two seats over from Harry and doing the bare minimum to ensure his date, Fleur Delacour, had a good evening. It was clear they were partners of convenience; Krum made it evident he was not here by choice.

Both women seemed to be vying for his attention and Harry was wondering if another cold war would be started this evening.

Fleur flipped her long silver hair in her hand. "You two met through Madame Lacroix?" She asked looking at Harry and sitting far closer to him than her own date. Viktor had been rather quiet and seemed content to not be the centre of attention.

Harry scooted closer to Natalia and glanced at her. He opened his mouth to respond but Natalia beat him to it.

"Yes, as he has told _so _many others, he was so _entranced_ by my ballet practise that he just _had_ to meet me," Natalia spoke sweetly, too sweetly in Harry's opinion. "And he is _such_ a gentleman! What young woman wouldn't want to be on his arm?" The look on her face made it clear she knew she had a major strategic advantage in the conflict.

"Oui, '_arry_ is such a catch! It is a blessing there are many future events where another could accompany him." The look she shot the younger woman was full of unconcealed contempt. She paused and looked at Harry. "Perhaps, I could grace '_arry's _arm in the future," Fleur purred his name every time she spoke it; the purring sent small tremors down his spine as she accented his name.

At her comment, Harry looked down at his food. He didn't want to upset his date or a potential ally. Lacroix had made it clear that the Delacour family was a powerhouse in France. 'Just make polite comments, look around and act oblivious.' He thought. When he glanced at Krum, he received a short smirk. Viktor enjoyed the witches interplay at Harry's expense. '_What a prick.'_

Refusing to participate in the cold war between the two females, he looked around. He saw Dumbledore was being fawned over by Percy Weasley, who was sitting beside him and nattered at by Ludovic Bagman. It was clear Bagman had already had too many drinks. Harry couldn't have picked a worse combination to bookend then man if he tried. Between Natalia and Bagman, was the raffle winner and his guest for the evening: Horace Slughorn and his guest Eldred Worple. Worple had written an autobiography about his time living amongst vampires, even befriending a few. He had told Harry that he would _kill _for the opportunity to write an autobiography for him. The way he had said it had made him wonder if he would actually commit homicide for the opportunity. A sane person did not live with vampires in their coven.

Deciding it was enough of the looking around part of his plan, Harry zoned back into the two women, who were still bickering back and forth.

"...Some of us wish to accomplish more than dancing for others." Harry caught the last bit of Fleur's barbed comment.

"Yes, the ones not _talented _enough _have _to move onto other pursuits. The wheat always separates from the chaff." Natalia riposted.

At this comment, Harry thought he should jump in before things got really ugly. "I quite like Natalia's dancing. I don't understand the technical parts but I do enjoy it," he smiled at his date.

Complimenting both to defuse the tension was now the plan.

"Thanks, Harry! I do _love _how much you enjoy it," she replied, hugging him possessively.

Harry continued onto the second phase of the plan. "I know that dance is not everyone's passion but you must be very talented for the Goblet to have picked you," he looked at Fleur and gave her a small smile.

"Merci, 'arry," Fleur squeezed his arm affectionately.

He felt Natalia's disapproval for complimenting Fleur, but, Harry wasn't going to upset either silver-clad young woman. He already had to deal with Dumbledore's looks of deep disappointment every time he glanced over at the man and Viktor's poorly hidden enjoyment at his predicament.

If the girls were going to talk over him, he was going to do the same to them. He caught Slughorn's eyes and initiated him in conversation while there was a break in the battle of the two immaculately dressed women.

"Professor, you said you were retired, how long did you teach here at Hogwarts?" Harry privately wondered if the man knew his parents.

"Oh ho! I taught here for a long time, started just after Albus! But call me Horace, Mr. Potter." Slughorn's face lit up in excitement.

"Only if you call me Harry, in return. You would have taught my parents then?" Harry questioned.

"Taught, oh my dear boy, I did more than just teach! Your mother, Lily, she was…" Horace trailed off as he seemed to get lost in his own thoughts. His jovial expression fell off his face as he recalled her fate. Before it gave way to a fond smile as he reminisced about her. "Your mother was a star student of mine. A brilliant mind for potions; it was so surprising as she was a muggle-born witch. I shouldn't have had favourites but your mother was one…" He paused again and looked at Harry. "I keep a photo of ours in my wallet, even after all this time."

The cold war between the two ladies was now firmly out of his mind. He had heard so very little of his parents and he had always been desperate to hear more about them. One of his most cherished items is the album of photos Hagrid gifted him. That action would keep the man as a firm friend.

"Could you tell me about her? I've heard almost nothing about her." Harry gently pleaded.

"I'd love to but this isn't the time nor place. We'll have to meet for dinner sometime," Slughorn suggested and there was a manic glint in his eyes. Harry vowed to find out more about the man, especially after his 'for a muggleborn' comment', before he agreed to meet up.

"At the moment, I do have a rather busy schedule through the tournament. I will let you know." Harry said diplomatically as he did want to learn more about his mother.

"Indeed… writing three OWL exams early like that. I talked with my old friend Griselda, we go way back. She told me she'd seen the memory of your test results, unofficially of course, and said you were right there with Dumbledore and Riddle for the highest OWL marks a year early!" Slughorn boomed out the praise while he hoped to fish for more details. "Accomplishing such a feat after leaving Hogwarts, you must have quite the tutor."

Harry had expected to be asked this regularly. "Yes, I do. Deciding to change the topic away from his tutor, he shifted to the offensive to get information on Riddle. "I don't know much about this Riddle fellow that keeps being mentioned. You must have known someone as talented as him, Horace?" Harry feigned total ignorance as he asked. 'A person who might have some knowledge about Riddle that wasn't Dumbledore; he might have to make time for dinner'.

"Riddle…" Harry saw Slughorn's countenance drop. The topic was visibly unpleasant for him to think about, obviously, he knew just who his student became. "Tom, that was his first name. He was a good student, but he wasn't brilliant until his OWL year. That's not to say he wasn't powerful and adept in his early years. He was, but, something changed in his fifth year. He gained a new confidence and both his spell work and academic work were just pushed to a whole new level." The portly man paused and there was a faint fondness to his reminiscing. "It was in that single year he distinguished himself from his peers. He was a frighteningly brilliant young man…" He trailed off with his expression turning sour once more.

It was a startling realization for Harry. Another piece of evidence that Riddle had gone through the same transformation he was undergoing. The parallels of their life were not lost on him and doubts crept into his mind. He wondered how benevolent Salazar's guidance actually was.

"What happened to Tom? I tried to look up information on him, besides an award for special services to the school and being Head Boy, there is scant known about him," Harry said as innocently as possible. Natalia and Fleur seemed to have paused in their verbal battle and waited for Slughorn's response.

The old man took his time before he answered. "He went missing shortly after Hogwarts. We can only guess that Tom came to an unfortunate demise." The professor looked like he had swallowed a melon and excused himself from the conversation to rejoin Eldred, who was conversing with Scrimgeour.

Harry turned back to his plate in thought. Slughorn had been overly eager to engage him and as soon as the topic of Riddle was brought up he clammed up and disengaged. It would require more thought.

He had finished his meal and looked at the rest of the table, most had as well. Next was dessert and then the opening dance. Harry had eaten a lighter meal, expecting he would be doing a lot of dancing tonight. Lacroix had warned him that many women would wish to steal a dance with him.

He turned to Natalia, seeing as she wasn't in a conversation, he asked her about it. "Natalia," he started getting her attention, "When we've completed the first dance together, is there some plan you have for the rest of the evening? Like how often should we switch partners or is there anyone else you wish to dance with?" He had planned to ask it on the carriage ride but that plan was aborted.

"Well, we'll probably do the first couple dances together and then we'll take the odd one-off with others until we decide to take a break. During the break, you could introduce me to your Hogwarts friends. I probably should dance with a couple of the important Durmstrang students like Viktor and Alexander and I guess we should switch partners with Cedric and Cho at least once too." She seemed to be thinking things over as she spoke.

"You will not mind dancing with moi, will you 'arry?" Fleur asked, jumping into their conversation. She was still sitting on the edge of her seat closest to Harry.

"It would be my pleasure. Natalia did just say she would want to dance with Viktor." Harry hoped his response wasn't going to be akin to the assassination of Franz Ferdinand, sparking a war between the two.

"I must be your second dance partner for the evening. Zat is okay wiz you, 'arry?" Harry felt her finger trail the side of his leg, she kept her arm still so it was not evident, but her hand and fingers gently caressed him. Harry used his closer hand to try and push her hand away but the single caress was all she did before moving her hand away. He saw Natalia had edged closer to him.

'Was he going to die in a crossfire between the two?'

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry stood three feet apart from Natalia. He watched as she pointed at her right hip, said a spell and her dress changed as she put her wand away. The areas where her skin was exposed had a material come over it and connected all the components of the dress. Her arms gained ribbons that dangled from around her elbow and sparkled with magic.

Harry perfected his posture and lowered his arms into position so they were ready to join with his partner. He had drowned out the faces of those surrounding the dance floor. As he did with Quidditch, he zoned the distractions out and focused on doing what was necessary to achieve his goal.

Lacroix had drilled into him that he must make it seem like he was having the time of his life even when he was desperately trying to ensure he didn't make a mistake.

He looked at his partner and smirked. No one knew of his dancing skills and no one would compare to them.

They closed the distance and began the routine Lacroix had choreographed for them. They didn't start with the box step even though he could hear the rhythmic counting of the three-four timing. Un Deux Trois.

Instead, he hesitated, dipped her slightly left, then quickly changed body positions to dip her right.

They were showing off, drawing attention to themselves. The other two couples paled in comparison. Faster than the first two bars of music, they moved seamlessly together.

_Hesitation Change, un deux trois un deux trois._

The magic ribbons on her arms flowed and sparkled.

_Fallaway Reverse Slip Pivot un deux et trois._

The movements came so easily now. He was truly enjoying the moment.

_Double Reverse Spin un deux trois et._

How great did she look with her lustrous brown hair twirling as he spun her?

_Open Telemark un deux trois._

Chasse from Promenade Position un deux et trois.

They moved so flawlessly. They knew the routine and they were just that good.

_Natural Spin Turn un deux trois un deux trois._

The others were doing coordinated movements.

_Turning Lock, left, to Promenade Position un et deux trois._

Cedric was doing the basic steps with Cho.

_Chasse from Promenade Position un deux et trois._

While Fleur urged Krum to do more than minimalistic movements.

_Hesitation Change, un deux trois un deux trois._

None of them compared to Harry and Natalia.

_Fallaway Reverse Slip Pivot un deux et trois._

Enticing, elegant, and oh so silky smooth.

_Double Reverse Spin un deux trois et._

How could one make a rational decision to not watch the pair?

_Open Telemark un deux trois._

The other couples were screwed.

_Chasse from Promenade Position un deux et trois._

Natalia was perfection personified: her arched back, pushed up chest, and long languid neck.

_Natural Spin Turn un deux trois un deux trois._

Harry was immaculate: rising, falling, swinging, swaying and stepping in time.

_Turning Lock, left, to Promenade Position un et deux trois._

He wasn't making a fool of himself now.

_Chasse from Promenade Position un deux et trois._

The song continued. Krum was barely moving around on the dance floor. Cedric had pulled off a couple of attempts at spins; they were nice attempts, for an amateur. The assembled staff, students and guests were glued as they watched Harry and Natalia. Cameras flashed as the pair out dressed, outclassed, and outdanced the others.

As the song ended, Harry spun Natalia so both their arms were fully stretched out. The two bowed and curtseyed respectively while the whole hall clapped.

With the first dance over, professors and students moved onto the dance floor. With the dance floor becoming far more crowded, they'd have to move more carefully to avoid collisions. Harry had wondered if they would change partners for the second dance, however, Natalia pulled him in for another.

Natalia had dropped part of the performing act. With the lack of space, the two of them simply danced now.

"That went well." She said and smiled at him as they stepped together.

"It did; I _almost_ feel bad for the others," Harry commented as he smirked.

Natalia saw the smirk and giggled before she spoke. "We should probably switch with Viktor and the French bitch next song." She scowled, not happy at the thought of Harry dancing with Fleur.

Now that it was just the two of them, he wanted to know why they two got on like oil and water. "What was the deal with you and her at dinner?" He asked.

She withheld a look of disgust for fear of a reporter thinking that she was unhappy with him. "She's _Veela_." She simply said.

They continued to dance as Harry waited for her to explain but she didn't. "I don't understand why that's important…" He trailed off.

Harry led her into a reverse spin and when they resumed a more standard box step, she answered. "They are _creatures_." Harry continued to show no sign of comprehension so she elaborated. "In Bulgaria, they are controlled and not allowed to use their veela magic. She was all over you! You are _my_ date!" She snarled the last part. Harry had to look around to ensure they weren't overheard.

He internally wondered about the 'creatures' comment. Was it a slur like mudblood? If anything, it should be a compliment. If veela were more akin to magical creatures their magic would be denser and closely associated with them. Wouldn't that be a good thing? It _was _the purpose of some of his rituals. There was no reason to prod his date further on a touchy subject, especially when he could research it later.

He was slightly concerned about another's magic affecting him so he decided any further flak would be worth taking to find out if he was being affected. They continued to move to the timing of the music and during a hesitation change, Harry inquired. "I didn't feel any magic… what kind of magic should I watch out for?"

Harry put her through a natural spin followed by a chasse to promenade position. Natalia regained a happier disposition and said, "They can ensnare you and make you desire them. In many countries, they are closely monitored, even here in England. And they _always _try and ensnare the powerful."

Harry mulled the new information over in his mind. Fleur hadn't even had a conversation with him before the selection. At the First Task, she was kind and wanted to help him. Now, she was enamoured with him. Was it because of his growing popularity and power?

"I didn't notice anything at the First Task and the Bulgarian mascots at the World Cup didn't affect me so… I'm not really sure what to say. I don't think Fleur is charming me."

Natalia gave him a sceptical look but didn't comment further. She didn't look pleased with the topic and Harry was not going to prod further.

The song was coming to an end and they made their way towards Krum and Delacour so they could make the appropriate switch when the song ended.

"Before we switch, was there someone else you wanted to make sure you danced with right away? At some point, I'll need to go find friends and get a drink." Harry asked Natalia.

"I should dance with Alexander but that can wait. I'm sure your friends have been dying to see you. I did see quite many stares and furtive looks during dinner. Three dances is enough of a start," Natalia said while being spun.

The song ended. Harry and Viktor exchanged nods and changed partners. Harry looked over at his new partner. She was smiling widely at him yet still held an air of haughtiness. Harry moved forward, joined one hand with hers and kept the second resting on her back.

As they moved together, she started the discussion between them. "You dance rather well, 'arry," Fleur spoke in a voice that ran a chill down his spine.

"Merci." He smirked and began a more complex combination. He knew the Delacour family had a daughter in ballet right now and Lacroix mentioned Fleur was a promising ballet student at one time too. It became obvious right away that she was a very skilled dancer. Any kind of movement he tried, she was able to follow his lead easily. She was not as good as Natalia but that was probably due to a lack of practice.

As they danced, he concentrated to see if her magic affected him. He hadn't felt any kind of allure and couldn't fathom what else it could be. He wasn't exactly sure how good of an occlumens he was, but he thought he should be able to feel something if it was a bastardized version of legilimency given how far he'd progressed in the art.

"'arry, you are a magnifique dancer." Fleur complimented him once more and decreased the distance between them.

"Thanks, you are rather skilled yourself." Harry returned the compliment and spun her to have a more appropriate distance. He could feel Natalia's lasers on him and he did not have a death wish.

"Oui, but I had many lessons as a little girl. I did not think you or any male student would be so skilled." Fleur commented again as they did a hesitation to avoid the pair that almost blundered right into them. The male was in a trance staring at the young woman he danced with.

"I knew you had lessons before," Harry smirked at her again. It was fun lording information over others.

"Have you been asking about moi?" There was a sexy timbre in her voice. The husky tone wasn't going to help keep his thoughts pure. Fleur knew _exactly_ how she was affecting her younger dance partner and revelled in it.

"Natalia told you we both learned at the same ballet academy?" She questioned. Her earlier teasing had run its course and she was genuinely curious about where he would have heard it. 'If Natalia had told Harry, what else could she have told him?' She thought.

"Nope," Harry responded, popping the p in nope.

Fleur raised her delicate eyebrow and gave him a look which made it clear she was above such bait. She waited as they kept dancing in time to the music.

"Fine," Harry gave off a manufactured sigh of mild disappointment, "Madame Lacroix told me."

"Madame Lacroix told you?" Fleur inquired, taken off guard by the comment. However, she only let a silver of surprise cross her features.

"Yep," Harry responded again, popping the p as he enjoyed messing with the older girl.

"When would you have seen her? I have never seen you at one of her shows nor on the list of invited people." He had to admit it was sexy to see her puzzled.

"Nope, never been." Harry enunciated the p once more and couldn't help the massive grin which formed on his face. He could see it agitated the gorgeous Beauxbatons Champion. He'd suffered through their cold war at dinner and he'd repay the torment in kind.

"You'd said at dinner that you'd seen Pavlova practice and so you met her when you watched Natalia?" Fleur asked, thinking back to their dinner conversation.

Harry's smirk was beyond smug. He could see comprehension dawn on Fleur's face as he opened his mouth to respond. With his face being so smug, she knew the single-syllable word with the letter following o and preceding q in the alphabet being over-pronounced that he would respond with. She winced, slightly, as he spoke the four-letter word which was becoming an English curse word in her book.

Harry could tell the song was getting close to being over and their dance together was ending. In the joint interview with Sam, he'd already told the story of how Lacroix had trained him for dancing so he lost nothing by telling Fleur. If he was really lucky, and that was a big _if_, Fleur might be taken by surprise again. She looked at him and expected to receive an answer.

"Lacroix taught me to dance." Harry dropped the bomb on her just as the song was ending. He enjoyed seeing her stumble and miss a step in their routine. Harry decided it was the perfect time to push it. He ended the finale with a free spin and dip while Fleur tried to reorient herself. She was mentally absent and even her previous instruction didn't let her keep up properly. It made him overjoyed to have discombobulated her so.

He led her back to Viktor and Natalia. Whereupon reaching them, he switched back to his actual date for the evening. Natalia gave him a quick hug and kiss on his cheek in greeting.

"Drinks and a break from dancing?" Harry asked aloud to the group.

Viktor looked at Fleur and shrugged before nodding his agreement.

Fleur smiled at Harry and said, "Oui."

Natalia piped in, "That would be nice."

"Da, we go get drinks." Krum verbally responded and ushered Harry off towards the drink table.

"We will get a table while you lovely gentleman gets us drinks," Natalia winked and glared at Fleur to follow. Fleur gave her a glare in return but followed as many reporters were still present.

Krum looked back to make sure the girls were a decent distance away and spoke. "You know what you are doing with Pavlova?"

Harry wasn't quite certain to if it was some sort of warning or if this was some weird big brother speech. Harry shrugged and waited to get clarity before he responded.

"The Pavlova family owns my team, Vratsa Vultures." His lack of discernible body language was making it difficult to decipher between the various forms of glowering he was so proficient at.

"A few years ago, a beater made a move on Maria." Seeing the lack of understanding on Harry's face he clarified, "Natalia's older sister, it wasn't appreciated. A week later, he was found dead. They claim it was suicide," he scoffed; it was _obviously _not what he believed. "I know you are not courting. But you are not dating her, are you?"

Harry frowned as he considered what he'd just heard. His assumptions were wrong and this sounded like a warning. The story sounded like a rumour and was likely nothing more than just that. He could ask Natalia about it. "No, we are just on a date this evening."

Krum nodded. "I would not date a Pavlova. Be careful." By the time the quidditch star had completed his warning, they were at the table with the drinks on it. Harry mirrored Viktor's actions as they each grabbed two drinks and looked for their dates. Harry spotted them first. Harry noted they had wandered over to where Slytherin students were sat. He told Krum and they made their way over.

"Harry, this is Alexander Fedorov and his date this evening, Daphne Greengrass," Natalia told him as he handed her a drink and she hugged her body up against his. Alexander was a tall, large-nosed, and broad-shouldered Durmstrang student. He was clearly a seventh-year student and he greeted Harry with a short stiff bow which Harry acknowledged with a nod of his head.

Harry turned to the Slytherin who he vaguely recalled from three or so years of having a handful of classes with. If he recalled right, a quiet studious type that didn't run in the same circle as Malfoy. She was tall, for a woman, and had a black dress on that covered her conservatively. Harry greeted her and didn't take a seat as he knew he needed to go see his friends right away. He was looking around to spot them as he wasn't sure if they had gone up to dance or not.

"Looking for your friends, Potter?" Daphne asked with an even tone.

"Yes. Do you know where they are?" Harry asked without looking at her. He was still roving his eyes around for Hermione and Ron.

"Well, Weasley is glaring at me and Granger doesn't look too pleased either, I'll go with yes." Harry looked at her while she spoke the final part and caught their general whereabouts from Daphne's nod.

"Thanks," Harry told her and then looked at Natalia, and asked, "You coming or did you want to visit with your friends?"

She looked at him and then back at the two glaring figures and thought perhaps it was best not to go. Then again, it could be helpful and supportive. She quickly debated it, shown by her scrunched up face, and decided not to go.

"Go talk to them first and then I shall come to you or they could come join us, here," she whispered to Harry.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The second he came storming back, Natalia could see he had just been through some deep shit. Even though he'd kept his emotions in check, he was still steaming inside. Natalia grabbed his arm and led him out of the hall for a walk in the rose garden. The two made their way outside in silence.

"Thanks; I needed air," Harry told his date as they found a private bench to sit on.

"I told you that I'd help you tonight," she smiled and rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. "Just doing what I can. Didn't look like your talk went well," she commented, allowing him to open up.

Harry hummed, debating whether he should answer as they sat there in the magical garden. Harry had cast privacy spells as soon as they had stopped. He was a rather private person and didn't want to ever be overheard.

"It's just hard…. sad," Harry gave a half-hearted enigmatic smile in her direction and looked out onto the grounds. He had a distant look to him; he was here physically but mentally and emotionally not.

"They were my best friends… my first friends…" Natalia raised her hand to signal him to stop talking. She made him lay down on her lap and massaged his forehead to calm him down. Neither said a peep as Harry let his emotions and thoughts settle from their turbulent state.

"I'm glad I came with you. It's not fun realizing you've grown beyond your friends and have left them behind." Harry's voice was soft yet firm. A lament for what was and what could have been.

"But even as the sun sets, it returns and rises brighter for a new day." Natalia felt the resolve building within him again. "I'm sad for how things ended but tonight was also the beginning. A new Harry Potter has returned." The words were probably meant more for himself than they were for Natalia's benefit.

It didn't stop her from chiming in though. "I like the Harry that you've become."

Harry got up from her lap and kissed her. Their tongues danced, although not as eloquently as their opening dance.

Natalia withdrew for air and asked, "Well, you ready to go back in there and make new friends?"

"Yes, I can't let dunderheads ruin an evening with such a lovely brat." Harry teased back.

"Good, because Alexander is a decent enough guy and he has a rather lovely date this evening though I gathered you two don't know each other well." She said as the two got up off the bench and began to walk back. "She was telling me all about the changes that are coming to Hogwarts."

That caught Harry's interest. He'd forgotten about the changes Cho and Cedric had asked him about. "What changes?" He asked his date.

"How about we get back in there you and you ask Daphne? I'm not really familiar enough with Hogwarts to understand it." Natalia replied as they made their way back up the path.

"Sounds good. Did you want to dance more? I should still talk with my quidditch teammates and see if they took things better." Harry told her.

"A few more dances would be lovely and I think I'd like to meet them if you think it will go better." She said as they paused at the door.

"Alright, brat but first." Feeling reinvigorated and spontaneous, he pulled her in for another kiss. He pushed all his feelings of gratefulness for her helping him just now, across the kiss.

Natalia moaned in delight.

Harry withdrew and gave Natalia time to regain her composure. Once she was ready, he locked arms with her and they entered the hall.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Did I hear you correctly?" Harry asked, utterly bewildered at the very concept of what they were saying.

"Yes," Cho said, making it clear she understood just why he had a hard time understanding it. "I'm just lucky I'm still a prefect. I'm one of the only ones that are keeping their badge. I've never seen Flitwick so upset…. it was terrifying." She grimaced a little with a bit of a dazed look on her face. Cedric pulled her in closer to support his girlfriend.

"Wow." Harry really didn't know what to say. Apparently, his actions had a lot more far-reaching repercussions than he'd have thought. Kind of amazing what a few things said to the press snowballed into.

"When is it happening then?" He followed up his own single word response.

"They haven't exactly said yet but they aren't going to do it in the Great Hall as they do for firsties," Cho told him throwing her hands up a little, in exasperation, indicating she had no idea.

"Father is on the Board and he's informed me a little…" All eyes turned to Daphne Greengrass as she interjected into the conversation that was taking place between Harry, Cho and Cedric. The Hogwarts Champion and his date had come to join their table while Harry was off with Natalia in the garden.

"You will need a valid reason that will be checked over. They don't want everyone trying to take advantage of things, though I was told the bar will be set pretty low for what they consider a valid reason." Everyone had focused on the pretty dark-haired Slytherin as she informed them.

"And zis is not, how do you say…. standard?" Fleur asked the Hogwarts students.

"It's not _entirely _unprecedented. It's just really rare." Cho claimed. "Some of the Ravenclaw students tried to look up the record and it has happened before."

"Why are they doing it?" Harry asked, wondering why such a drastic step would have been approved.

Cedric looked at him as if he'd just asked a stupid question. "Harry, it's because of what you said in the press. There was a whole bloody _inquisition _into what drove you to leave Hogwarts."

Harry waved his answer off, he'd obviously understood that part of it. "That's not what I was asking. Why was that step needed? Couldn't they have just stopped it?"

Harry was a bit surprised when it was Daphne that spoke up again. "They are hoping to entice your return... and they think giving you the opportunity will help."

Harry wasn't really sure what exactly to think of the striking young woman. She was a Slytherin but she seemed rather nice and she was very beautiful in a unique way compared to Fleur and Natalia.

"Does it make you want to come back more?" Cedric asked, curious as to how Harry would take the news.

Harry refrained from answering when Natalia grabbed his hand and pulled him up. As she took him away, she quickly said, "Sorry, Harry is going to take me dancing _right now_."

Harry wasn't expecting this at all, especially as he was engrossed in the conversation. Natalia was moving quite quickly in her dress to get back on the dance floor. As he let himself be pulled away, Harry glanced back over his shoulder and saw the reason: reporters and Dumbledore were now headed to their table. Harry saw Alexander and Daphne following quickly after them. He _almost_ felt bad for Viktor, Fleur, Cedric and Cho, but better them than him.

They began a nice easy routine, nothing too fancy just an easy relaxing dance. After a minute of casual dancing, Harry wanted to thank his date once again.

"I didn't even see them coming. Thanks for getting us back out here." He said as they did a standard box step making it convenient to speak.

"It's just temporary; you will need to speak with them," Natalia told him brushing off his praise for her manoeuvre.

"Yeah, but instead of being ambushed, I get time to think about what they might ask and how I should handle it." Harry twirled her away and brought her back, the skirt of her dress came up as it whirled around, exactly as it was designed to do.

"What do you think they are going to ask you about?" Natalia asked him when she was close to him.

"Now that Daphne, Cho and Cedric have given me the goods, I suspect he'll use the changes to try to get me to return." Harry chuckled as he got the exact mental image of exactly what he thought Dumbledore would say. He had to share it with his date as she gave him a weird look. "Harry, my boy, we made these changes for you. Come home to your friends and where your parents and their friends attended." Harry laughed bitterly because he wouldn't put it past the old man to use his memory of his parents to guilt-trip him.

"I don't really know Dumbledore well enough to comment, but it does sound plausible," Natalia added, unhelpfully.

He wasn't pleased with her answer but she did help him twice tonight.

The song ended shortly and she directed them directly to Alexander and Daphne. Harry spied their table was still playing host to Dumbledore and three members of the press. There was no reason to hurry back. The press agents were hounding the sacrificial lambs.

They switched partners and Harry was paired with another gorgeous woman. He didn't feel anxious as he was a confident dancer. It was a just a little weird; they were classmates for years and he'd never even bothered to talk to her before. He felt like he should try and talk to her now. He'd kept the dancing really simple as he tried to lead her into a more complicated string of moves but she'd fumbled her footing. Instead, Harry had made it seem like a natural hesitation, so nobody would notice, and then kept it really easy. While Fleur and Natalia were both trained dancers, Daphne had probably learned from her mother or a family member.

"I think this is the most we have spoken since we started at Hogwarts together," Harry said hoping to start even just a polite conversation.

"It is." She replied simply.

Harry internally groaned. It was like Natalia, Anna and Hannah again. Thankfully, he at least had practice under his belt now. He could coax her to say more than conversation ending answers.

"Do you like being in Slytherin?" He asked her carefully. He had a follow-up question planned for either answer.

She looked at him for a moment before answering slowly, "Not particularly." She stepped forward as he had initiated another round of the box step.

"Do you plan to ask for a re-sorting then?" He queried neutrally as he stepped forward, now that a new measure of the song started.

"I don't think so." She said. Harry thought she hesitated as she said it, probably indicating she wanted to.

"Why not?" He asked her another question to keep the conversation going. He was going to be successful.

She shot him a mild glare as she didn't appreciate being interrogated.

"The hat originally wanted me for Slytherin and Ravenclaw and I'm not sure I want to go there with everything that's gone on there. Might be worse than being a snake." It was too bad that she wasn't comfortable talking with him. She looked like she could go on but had stopped herself.

Harry responded, "I'm guessing Gryffindor wouldn't be a good place for you." She nodded her assent as she rolled her eyes at the obvious conclusion he'd drawn. "Well, if you'd rather be in Hufflepuff that shouldn't be an issue." He winked at her when she looked at him confused.

"The Sorting Hat wanted me in a different house and I _asked _for Gryffindor. It didn't really like that I requested a different house... but it put me there anyway. Besides, between Slytherin cunning and Ravenclaw's intelligence, you should be able to think up a good argument to get where you want." He chuckled at her expression while they continued dancing together.

Daphne looked at him oddly as she processed the words. It made Harry wonder how people were taking the new and improved him. He wasn't the same person and it appeared as though Daphne slowly realized that.

He could see her biting her bottom lip. "Which house did the Sorting Hat want you in?" She asked with obvious nervousness.

Harry didn't see the harm in telling her. "The Sorting Hat said, 'You could be great...and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness'. The hat offered the option and thought it could be good for me... but I wanted nothing to do with Slytherin."

"Why not? Weren't you muggle raised?" She asked as they continued to dance together.

Harry would have titled his head as he spewed his thoughts from his mouth if he wasn't dancing, posture was too important to not keep proper. "Well, Hagrid told me you-know-who was a Slytherin and he murdered my parents. I had two encounters with an eleven-year-old Malfoy." Harry could see she understood how poorly that would have gone over for anyone. "Ron told me how all the evil wizards get sorted there. Being muggle raised, I didn't care where I went so long as it wasn't Slytherin by the time I put the hat on." Harry replied blandly.

They continued to move together. "You're far more interesting in person, Potter." She remarked after thinking his comments over.

"Harry is fine, you don't have to call me Potter." He gave her a disarming look before he continued. "Doesn't dancing together build some familiarity?" He asked, slyly.

When their eyes connected, she rolled hers and responded. "Fine, _Harry_, you can address me as Daphne." She drawled, he could almost see the sarcasm in her tone.

"Thanks, _darling._" He responded in kind. It was fun teasing pretty girls.

When the song came to an end, Harry brought Daphne back to her date for the evening, Alexander. Before he handed her over to Alexander, he kissed her hand. Natalia shot him a glare as he took her back from Alexander, with a nod to the boy.

"I was just following etiquette, Natalia." He said to placate her unease.

She did not say anything as another song came on and they began dancing. The two danced in close proximity and mostly in silence as they were just enjoying the moment. The floor had far fewer couples as many had vacated it to socialize. It allowed Harry and Natalia to move around more freely again, which was nice.

When the song was coming to a close, Harry broke the comfortable silence. "Time to go face the music then?" He queried.

"Probably a good idea, don't want to draw it out and make them annoyed. Though, it is fun to watch Viktor scowl at the reporters. He _really_ hates talking to the media. He just loves to play his sport and fly his broom." She giggled as they moved towards where they had left their fellow champions.

"Harry, my boy, care to answer a few friendly questions?" Albus Dumbledore asked, taking command of the situation. There were three press agents around him that he recognized: Boris Gelding from Bulgaria, Barbara Smith from the New York Times and Marie Dumont from Witch Weekly. Harry thought they were probably three of the more senior reporters. They were with Dumbledore now and had been among the first to ask him questions previously. It could just be a coincidence for all he knew.

"Of course not, Mister Dumbledore." He replied with Natalia still on his arm.

"Your date is Natalia Pavlova?" Boris Gelding asked with his deep voice first.

"Yes, and she's made for quite the lovely date tonight." Harry was trying to be more personable and relatable in the interviews so he would come across well to the reporters and their readers.

Gelding barked out a laugh as he wrote down something. Whatever he found funny, he didn't share.

"Are you two dating?" Marie Dumont spoke up from between the other two reporters. Harry, internally sighed, knowing he'd already gone over these questions and was likely going to have to repeat everything he had done with Samantha earlier. They had completed it first to ensure Samantha was the first to get her articles out.

The interview went on for a little with the same inane questions. The two of them skillfully answered them all as they had with Sam before Dumbledore tried to initiate the public appeal to get Harry back at Hogwarts via the media.

"What do you think about the changes they have made at Hogwarts based on your comments?" Barbara Smith asked.

"I'll need clarification, what specific changes are you asking about?" Harry wanted clarity on exactly what they had been told.

"The investigation into bullying at Hogwarts and the anti-harassment policies, including the opportunity for any student fearing harassment could request a resorting when the new term starts." Smith detailed out some of what Dumbledore had informed them.

"It's certainly interesting. I'm not sure why you would attribute it to me. From what I've heard, half of the Ravenclaw house has been censured for bullying of a specific student. I was even told they were not allowed to attend tonight's festivities as one of the punishments." Harry spoke clearly. He was far more relaxed and confident than he had been the last time he'd seen these particular people.

"The investigations only took place because you made it clear there were issues and it was why you left the school. Will you return to Hogwarts now?" Smith asked the follow-up question. Harry could see the approval from Dumbledore; Smith must have an arrangement with Dumbledore.

"I left for a number of reasons. My tutor has been able to accelerate my schooling, therefore I will not be returning full time to Hogwarts for at least the duration of the tournament. The Goblet of Fire didn't select me for Hogwarts and I would not wish to risk running afoul of the magical contract." The last part was something he'd been thinking of for a plausible reason for not returning. "That's not to say I wouldn't welcome spending more time here again." He added with a smile that reminded him too eerily of Lockhart's false preening.

"How so?" Smith pressed on. He saw the flash of disapproval on Dumbledore's face even though he tried to hide it before Harry offered a form of compromise.

"Well, I would like to socialize with my friends and peers and I do miss flying around the castle grounds. Furthermore, Hogwarts has an amazing library and world-class professors. I am doing rather well in my lessons but I'd like to be able to pick the brains of the professors still." He smiled widely again, radiating his happiness for the plan. It was a good thing for Harry too. He couldn't just sit in the chamber all day every day.

"That wouldn't be an issue at all, my boy," Dumbledore spoke and gave Harry a look. Harry bet he was already scheming to control him again.

"I will be in touch, Mister Dumbledore." Harry returned his gaze at Dumbledore's forehead, careful not to make direct eye contact.

Dumbledore seemed to have gained whatever he had hoped to achieve, he nodded and made his exit. The three media members followed shortly after his exit.

When they were out of earshot, Cedric looked over at Harry. "That wasn't very nice. Leaving us out to dry with the media that was clearly coming for you." The affable young man tried to make it seem as if he was far more upset than he actually was.

"I regret nothing." He smirked. "Natalia saw them coming and was smart enough to throw you to the wolves instead of me." He felt a finger poke his ribs as he shifted blame to her. "What can I say? My date's just awesome like that." He laughed hoping his compliment would assuage her need to poke him again.

"If you are going to be eating at Hogwarts and around, will you sit wiz me sometimes?" Fleur batted her eyebrows at him.

"You'd be welcome at the Ravenclaw table anytime." Cho chimed in as well.

"With us Puffs too, even after sacrificing me to the media." Cedric mock glared at Harry.

Harry chuckled. "Cedric, I was just showing loyalty. I mean, I've had so much media exposure I was making sure you got your fair share too! That's fair play and showing loyalty like a true Hufflepuff," he snickered.

"Mind if we join ya?" A voice came in from behind Harry. He hadn't seen them come towards their table. Harry turned his head around and found Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia and Katie had come over together.

He quickly looked around to ensure nobody else at the table was going to be upset if he agreed. Daphne had her complete neutral face on again. She probably wasn't too comfortable with all the Gryffindors. It diminished the looks of the brown-eyed beauty. She looked far better when her large pouty lips were smiling on her longer symmetrical face with her delicate jaw.

Seeing no dissent, Harry had them introduced to everyone.

"Didn't look like your chat with our little brother went all that well," George said.

"Ronniekins had quite the tale to tell before he was escorted out." Fred piped in. Neither twin looked all that happy recalling the incident. He could see all three ladies with them reflected the same sentiment.

Harry gave them a strained smile before he spoke. He knew the entire group was listening in and focused on him. "Yeah… it didn't go well." Harry wasn't looking to see who but at least two people snorted at the rather obvious statement. "I'd hoped we might smooth things over but I don't see that happening now." It pained him to admit the two people he was closest to at the beginning of this year were now not even friends.

"Why ever not? You've always been attached at the hip with them," Cho asked, honestly puzzled at how it could have happened. The Gryffindor quidditch players all cringed. They'd heard all about it in the common room since the tournament selection.

Harry grimaced along with his teammates and Natalia gave his hand a comforting squeeze, she was letting him know she was there for him. "Ron… is jealous, I think. He was upset I was included, assuming I had cheated. Now that it's been proven false, he's upset I'm 'hogging all the glory' and getting special treatment even though I'm nothing but an 'undeserving git whose claim to fame is his parent's death'." He heard the collective intake of breath and just pushed forward. He knew it would make its way through the famous Hogwarts rumour mill but he just wanted it done.

"When Mount Ron was finished exploding, Harpy Hermione went at me for my OWL grades because 'it's not possible for you to write your OWLs when even I'm not ready for them yet' and well things got worse from there... I'm just glad everything was behind a privacy spell, the yelling…." He shuddered to think what would have happened if someone would have heard that. It would have been front-page news.

"All the more reason to come sit with us badgers then," Cedric announced pulling everyone's attention from Harry.

"Hey! He's _our _star seeker. We _won't_ be giving him up." Katie responded to Cedric's comment hotly. Harry was surprised at just how heated it was.

"He can sit with us anytime he wants," Alicia added, backing up their younger chaser.

"And we're sorry we didn't show our support earlier… I was upset Cedric got picked over me and didn't realize how bad it had gotten." Angelina sheepishly commented after her two teammates.

Harry was genuinely happy with them all. It was disappointing they hadn't jumped up to help him earlier. He wasn't that close to them and rarely ever sat with them in the common room or at meals. His social circle had been his two best friends and his dorm mates. He lost two best friends tonight, but gained many more new friends.

The future was looking brighter.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rather difficult chapter for me to write parts of. I think there was around 17-18k of rough draft material that was cut down massively (Haphne24: And I made him rewrite many portions of this chapter. I've ingrained in his head, the motto: quality over quantity). As I said, difficult to write this one for whatever reason. Needed a lot more rework.
> 
> As the guest review by nony pointed out, I had overused alliteration last chapter but it's not just the once. There's typically one over use or one ostentatious wordplay in each chapter. I am writing for my own enjoyment and find it amusing. I mean the first sentence of Ch 11 is plainly preposterous. It was perfectly preplanned proclivity, precise precipitous pretentiousness.
> 
> Something that's shown up in the reviews. There will be intentional ambiguity in the fic. The most blatant one picked up was Skeeter last chapter. Life has ambiguity. You won't get an answer or clear cut picture for everything. This fic has some in it and will continue to have it. I won't be clarifying it all in public ANs. That being said, I did answer PMs asking if it was Skeeter.
> 
> I've seen it asked and I won't be publicly revealing the exact details on pairings. Fleur becomes a mainstay in the story really quickly here and Daphne becomes a part in the new year. I edited that in last chapter's AN.
> 
> Thanks Haphne24 for the beta work again.
> 
> As always, thanks for the reviews, favs, follows and feedback. It's all appreciated.


	13. Meet The Parents

"We are so glad you could make it Monsieur Potter."

Harry looked up, after dusting himself off from the floo travel, and saw a rather fierce-looking man. "Please, come in. I'm Patrice Delacour and it is a pleasure to meet another Potter."

Patrice reached forward and grasped Harry's hand.

"Thank you for inviting me. You have a lovely home." Harry said as he looked around at the elegant entry hall he'd stepped into.

"Fleur told me she wasn't sure you would have gotten it." He said with a rueful smile.

Harry blushed slightly; Fleur must have informed the man of what she had done. The brushing of her hand against his leg was not her flirting with him. Actually, it might have been that too. The brushing of her hand up against his leg was a disguise for depositing a letter. It was his best guess as to when it had happened. The only other thought was when they had danced together but it seemed less likely to him.

"Let us stop the formalities and you can call me Patrice. Under different circumstances, you should have grown up calling me Oncle Patty."

Harry nodded as he followed the man. Patrice was outgoing, and although he was teasing Harry, he had a way about him to be able to draw him into being comfortable around the man.

"Have you eaten lunch?" The man asked kindly. The two of them walked further into the immaculate home. Harry had no idea if the artwork and other art pieces were of any significant value or not.

"Yes." It was not the early afternoon. The letter had stated they hoped he would be able to make it and to come any time of the day today. He hadn't wanted to skip his training and given it was a ritual day, he had to complete that too.

"Ah, well you did catch us at a less the opportune time. My youngest, Gabrielle, is out with my wife, Apolline, and I will fetch them. How about I let Fleur show you around our home and by the time that is done I can introduce you to my family?" Harry blushed and nodded. They continued walking through the vast hallway.

Patrice stopped in front of a door that was marked with the name Fleur Delacour.

With impeccable timing, the door opened and out walked Fleur. Harry gulped as he took her in. Her long silver-blonde hair free to flow down her back, skin-tight soft blue jeans and a top that looked like a second skin with the way it hugged her body, though it did not bare any part of her breasts. She didn't need to stoop to such measures to catch the attention of the opposite sex.

"'arry! I'm so glad you were able to come." Harry had a serious love-hate relationship going on with that tone. It did unnatural things to him when he heard her say his name and speak to him in such tones. He hated it because it did affect him even if he was able to keep it from being a noticeable one. Maybe the magic Natalia warned him about was in her voice…

"Bonjour, Fleur." He managed to say confidently. She sauntered to him and hugged him. "I was worried you might not come." She whispered into his ear as she embraced him. For a moment Harry forgot it was not just the two of them in the room.

"I must be off. Be a dear and show Harry around until I am able to fetch your mother and Gabrielle." Patrice said as he clapped Harry on the back.

She tilted her head as she looked at him. "Did Papa show you around at all?" She asked.

"No, I was brought here right from the entry."

Harry offered his arm and she led him through the home. Opulent was a good word for it. From what Harry could recall there were ten lavish bedrooms, art pieces displayed all over the property and a number of specialized rooms, including but not limited to; art room, music room, reading room, and more. The ballroom and formal dining rooms were the most ostentatious of them all. The final place they got to on their way was the garden of the ballroom.

The two of them continued out into the garden arm in arm. They had made general polite small talk as they toured the home, though mostly Fleur explained out about various aspects of their lovely estate home. It was out in the garden that Harry planned to have some more frank conversation with the Delacour heiress.

"I'd like to preface my question by saying I know virtually nothing about veela. Is it okay to ask something that could be offensive?" Harry started out carefully.

Her head dropped slightly as she looked at him challengingly. "Oui."

Undaunted he continued with his question. "I have heard people call you a creature. I, uh, saw the veela at the World Cup but I don't quite understand. I've read that veela aren't magical creatures… why is that?"

When Fleur heard the word 'creature', her eyes narrowed dangerously. It hadn't stopped him from asking his question, he had just taken note of it. Her lips were thinned and Harry would have to be blind to not see she was upset.

"It is a... euphémisme dérogatoire, how is it you say in English deroatoiree euphen?" The scowl adorning her face could either be from failing to find the correct English word or still from the topic.

"Derogatory euphemism." Harry corrected gently and she dipped her chin in acknowledgement. "I thought so. I don't understand... why is it a bad thing? Shouldn't it be a compliment?" He asked with repressed shoulders, his voice had a downward lilt to it.

Fleur looked at him rather oddly before she cracked up. Her musical laughter filled the garden. "A compliment? 'ow so?"

"Well, true magical creatures are powerful and beautiful in their own way. Dragons, phoenixes, unicorns, and basilisks are terrifying and amazing. I'd take it as a compliment to be compared to any of them. I could see how basilisks might feel like a negative thing but even they are amazing." The sincerity Harry spoke with matched the serenity of the garden and was wholly contrasted by Fleur's giggling.

She was trying to stifle them but was failing, she. "'arry, you are manifique."

He wasn't really sure how to respond to that.

When she had calmed her giggling, she put the poor boy out of his confused misery. "Being called a 'magical creature' is meant to say we are not 'uman'. Similar to a muggleborn being called a mudblood. Though, your thoughts on it are rather amusing, 'arry." She giggled again.

"I see."

Harry waited to see if Fleur was going to say anything further but she did not. He still had more questions he wanted to be answered.

"Why have you changed how you acted towards me?"

"How have I changed?" Her forehead scrunched as her eyebrows closed together. "Do you mean from the task to the ball?" She voiced her thought aloud.

"No, well yes, but there's more to it. You told me the Potter and Delacour families were close but you ignored me until the First Task and then you were helpful. Then last night you were rather close, even when I was on a date with another girl." Her eyebrows may have been scrunched together but Harry's weren't. His eyes were narrowed and he was trying to concentrate on her body language.

To ensure he was mollified, Fleur knew she was going to be honest with him. "I thought you wanted nothing to do with our family…. You had never responded to any letters and so I left you alone. I thought you may be… presidenced…"

Harry looked at her quizzically as he tried to figure out just what she was trying to get across. He smiled faintly when he realized the word she had meant to use. "Did you mean prejudiced?"

This was one of the things he was finding such joy in. How he had never branched out beyond his two former best friends astounded him. There was far too much fun to be found in teasing pretty girls.

Harry decided to move on and end her embarrassment, for not knowing his native language well. "That explains the first part but what about at the first task and the Yule Ball?

She recognized his gesture and let him know by flexing her arm, the one that was conjoined with his. "After you were missing and I knew you didn't know about the Delacour-Potter connection, I wanted to 'elp you."

Harry nodded and waited, expecting her to continue on. He did his best not to react one way or the other.

"As for the ball… I had 'oped to see you and be your date as well." She didn't blush but she did look somewhat bashful. "I ended up going with Viktor since neither of us could attend with the people we wanted so we went together. He's been around veela so he had no issues."

The two were still walking along the unnaturally smooth pathway through their large outdoor garden. Immaculate shrubs, blooming flowers, gorgeous trees and so well manicured.

"Why would you want to go with someone so young? You're what 17? I'm 14." There were quite a few things Harry planned to try and wrangle out of the Delacour's while he visited them today.

"You don't know, 'arry?" The look she gave him was half perplexed and half predatory.

The shiver that ran down his spine had equal parts to do with the way she purred his name and how she looked at him.

"Veela have…" She paused to think of the correct word to use as she tilted her head in thought. "Unique magical traits that normal witches lack. You feel the allure we give off passively, oui?"

Maybe this is what Natalia was so concerned about the previous evening. "No."

Fleur's upper teeth protruded over the top of her bottom lip and attempted to connect to her lower teeth as she hummed while processing his response. The two of them still had linked arms as they continued to saunter along the garden pathway. Fleur had decided to stop at two trees that had formed one massive stump. It had been carved down so part of the trunk was a bench seat with sides being the two tall tree trunks. Harry noticed it looked to be well worn from regular or prolonged use. They sat closely together but not how he would have sat with Natalia. There was a space between them and neither were trying to bridge the gap.

When they had gotten comfortable, she'd answered his earlier denial. "I had noticed but thought you would still feel something. You don't feel it at all, non?"

Harry shook his head to indicate the negative.

"Veela have another trait. We are drawn to wish to mate with the strongest, the ones fit to protect us and breed strong offspring." At this Harry, had a minor red tinge develop across his skin. "Those blessed with more magical power often aren't affected by it."

"Ah, that makes sense," Harry agreed.

"It does?" She asked as it wasn't really all that well understood. There was a strong correlation but it wasn't a theoretically understood concept.

"Of course, magic is sentient." He repeated the oft read mantra of his deceased mentor.

Fleur stared at Harry as she tried to puzzle out whether he was being facetious or if he was being serious. His face, tone and body language all suggested serious but it could be veiled sarcasm.

"Quoi?"

Harry noticed the young woman sitting beside him wasn't understanding the concept. Hogwarts had not taught him it and it seemed Beauxbatons did not either.

"All wizards are imbued with magic. More than likely the stronger wizard's magic seeks to protect them. Although I'm still a novice in trying to understand it, I believe that my magic reacts to my innate wishes. I do not wish to be controlled and if your allure would control or change my behaviour it will resist." Harry explained some of what he had been learning and dwelling on to her. He'd been giving a lot of thought to how the sentience of magic could be affecting him. All the rituals and how Cuddles came into existence, most specifically.

"Are you sure?" She was sceptical of a fourteen-year-old explaining magic in a way she'd not heard from her parents nor from her prestigious school.

Harry shrugged. He trusted Salazar as far as magical theory was concerned. He wasn't going to defend himself nor explain just who he was learning from. Regardless of his failed attempts at understanding how the Chamber of Secrets even operated.

"So you are, uh, interested in me because of my power? Is it magical power, political, economic? I'll guess magical." The way in which he had phrased the question had made it seem it was just any old standard question. Not one of a fourteen-year-old sitting with a supremely gorgeous seventeen-year-old female in close proximity alone in a quiet corner of the garden, when not even her family was home.

"Oui and non…" Fleur started out. "Veela have the ability to… to feel? Sense? Discern? It's hard to explain to a non-veela… I can tell what you feel about me."

Harry's face was furrowed, frowning deeply.

The ability deeply disconcerted him.

"I can tell when a man only wants me for my looks, for example. It is a trait to allow us to tell whether a romantic partner has genuine feelings for us or not. I cannot sense your emotions, we are not empathetic beyond that singular situation. It is part of our passive magic."

The limited nature was more comforting to know but still had him somewhat on edge.

"We are tactile beings. When I touch you, or you touch me, it is when I can sense it. When I put my hand on your shoulder before the first task, I was happy to feel you were not among the many who were vying for me sexually. Then when you placed your hand on me, I could feel the intention was genuine. Not even a flicker of depraved desire."

Fleur was looking at Harry with unbridled emotion.

"There is a draw to your magical power, as you say, 'arry, but it is more than that. We are more passionate, more touchy-feely, than witches. We crave physical intimacy. You will see Gabrielle, my sister, who clings to my parents to feel their love and affection. She clings to me and I suspect she will love to be in physical contact with you too. From most boys, I can sense the lust when they touch me and I _hate_ their tainted touches. I 'ad 'oped you would not feel the same and you didn't. The entire walk you did not lust once. There is desire but natural untainted desire. You do not covet a conquest. I can touch you and sate my desire for positive physical contact."

That was quite the information dump.

"And you have no problem being interested in a fourteen-year-old? Isn't that, err, irregular?" Harry didn't know much about the wizarding world but he wasn't interested in eleven-year-olds or even twelve-year-olds.

"Non, my magic and instincts believe you could be a highly desirable mate. We will not always be fourteen and seventeen forever. By the time you are seventeen, it will not be odd, not at all. By the time you are twenty-five, it will be far beyond being an issue. Though I am not a witch so I don't perceive it. Normally, a veela is more interested in men older than them because they are more powerful and set in their lives. My mére would not be surprised if I dated a man seven years older than I am." She was enjoying spending time with Harry. Not many males in her age group was she ever so comfortable with.

"Do you normally share all this kind of information with everyone?" Harry didn't believe so and Fleur's response showed his line of thinking was correct.

"Non, but the Potter family has been close to ours and we trust you will not spread it around."

Harry gave her a reassuring look. If Fleur had let him know information normally kept private, he would not betray her trust.

"What about diner then? What was that between you and Natalia?"

Fleur stiffened slightly with the question. "It's complicated. We knew each other from ballet lessons but mostly discord between our families."

Their time together was broken by a voice calling out to them. It carried to their unseen position.

Before Harry could try and pry more he heard a new voice break out. "Fleur, Harry?"

"Papa."

"Come let me introduce you to Apolline, my lovely wife, and Gabrielle, my youngest."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry had no expectations for what an afternoon of leisure with the Delacour family would include. A chat with Fleur in the immaculate garden, being dragged off to Gabrielle's room to see it and be shown all of her possessions while she had rapidly talked at him in French, and then having a snack with tea wasn't exactly what he had expected. It wasn't the sitting around and watching the telly that he'd seen from the Dursleys.

It was nice, relaxing and refreshing.

He was still marvelling at how much Apolline, Fleur and Gabrielle were alike. Though separated in age, they all had the same silver-blonde hair and blue eyes. Gabrielle is exactly what he would have imagined a young Fleur looked like. If Apolline was anything to go by, they would remain remarkably beautiful women for many years to come.

The most striking thing about the afternoon was how comfortable it was. They had accepted his presence as if he'd always been there. Gabrielle treated him like he was an older brother. Apolline was polite and warm, kind and affectionate, without being overbearing.

It was a look into a different type of wizarding family. One not in a home bursting at the seams with an overabundance of energy and with a total lack of space. Where there is a single washroom for so many and chores abundant to keep the household sane.

"Are you sure you can handle, moi?" Fleur taunted him out of his musings as she stood opposite from him in the duelling room.

"I won't go easy on you just because you are younger." She smirked at him.

Harry already knew she was skilled in the magical arts. Beauxbatons did not have an official duelling club, and Fleur was never going to be allowed into the grimy duelling circuits, but she still was considered the best of her peers as her father had trained her since she was eight.

He just nodded at Patrice who was overseeing the spar. Salazar had lambasted useless words and banter. Banter had uses for unsettling an opponent or forcing them off their guard. There was a time and place for it and neither were now.

Harry readied himself and waited for the duel to begin.

The second he saw the spark to start, he began his barrage. He had four simple spells he spammed: a shield breaker, stunner, body-bind and disarming spell. The shield breaker to be used just before one of the ones that would end it. There were very little tactics involved here. His plan was to be fast, hit hard and be utterly relentless in the pressure he poured on. Overwhelm her with speed, accuracy and power all while moving erratically for his form of defence.

Fleur had been overconfident and had let the barrage commence. She'd never faced anyone like this. She didn't have time to think. Spell after spell was wearing out her defensive capabilities faster than she could ever imagine. Every shield she threw up was decimated with powerful shield breakers. Constant jets of magic flowed at her like she was trying to stop the tide from coming in.

It didn't take long. She was petrified and almost simultaneously disarmed of her wand. If she could have moved her jaw, she would be grinding her teeth together in frustration.

"Winner, Harry Potter," Patrice said still somewhat in shock over what he had just witnessed. He wasn't even sure if his heir had got off a single offensive spell. "Your tutor has been drilling you on the basics?" He asked Harry after getting over his stupefaction.

"Something like that," he said as he shrugged. He was always as cagey as possible with information on his training and education.

Patrice took a moment to unpetrify his daughter and float her wand back to her. He looked at the winner and saw he didn't even have a sheen of sweat on him after that display of intense casting.

Fleur was fuming mad. She'd never fought a duel in such a way and had let him get the opening advantage. He'd taken that small advantage and used it to keep her off balance and on the defensive until she broke. She would not tolerate losing so handily for their only bout.

"I demand a rematch." She snarled as she moved back to her spot.

Patrice knew this wasn't a great idea. Whoever was teaching Harry Potter was forcing him to perfect the very basics. His speed and stamina were phenomenal. Once the foundations of speed, strength and stamina were at obscene levels, they would begin tactic training. It spoke of dedication and repetitive training.

His daughter was skilled and knowledgeable at battle tactics but he knew she was no match for Harry. She was a house built on sand and deep strong waves were coming to knock it over. He had not pushed her as hard as he should have since it was a time of peace.

Now, he was facing the consequences of the decision.

Patrice looked to the boy and he had indicated he was ready. He started the second spar.

Fleur threw spells out with righteous fury. None came close to touching Harry. His movements too quick and erratic to pin so easily. The worst part was his grin. He was enjoying the exercise and had no qualms about it.

Harry had yet to fire a spell back. Patrice watched and earnestly tried to figure out the ploy. He saw Harry had the time to return fire but he would not. He jumped, ducked, dodged and dived around as he expertly avoided everything Fleur threw at him. She lit the ground on fire around him and he had made himself immune already. Everything she sent his way, he avoided, or dispelled.

Patrice could not be more impressed. He'd been too young to have fought in the Grindelwald war but had trained against those that had. Few of them remained in any kind of active duty and those that were still in law enforcement had been dulled from their peak. There was little incentive for anyone to maintain wartime aptitude. Budgets wouldn't allocate paid time to train nearly long enough and most of the interested individuals went into the duelling circuits. With such strict rules and ticket sale based financial incentives, it was far too showy and rigid to be considered real combat.

The young man he was seeing in front of him was preparing for war. There was no other reason he was in such good shape, physically and magically. Fleur was tiring from her barrage yet Harry looked as if he could continue in perpetuity. All the reports that he had read about the boy were wrong. With his OWL scores, which he had thought were boosted or inflated by favourable media coverage, and now this impressive display, he had no doubts whoever was training him had a purpose. You don't push a fourteen-year-old this hard for no reason and you don't train that hard just because your tutor told you. There _must_ be something driving him.

Fleur was magically exhausting herself and she recognized it. Patrice recognized her change in strategy. Staying at a distance wasn't going to allow her to win and if he was going to _dare _to mock her, by not fighting back, she would close the gap so he _had _to fight back.

The young veela was beyond incensed, she was exasperated by her ineptitude. As they got closer, Patrice expected to see Harry move away or start a game of cat and mouse. Instead, he didn't try to impede her and the size of his grin grew.

Fleur didn't have the same pace of offensive magic coming at him any longer. Her body was drained and Harry was still untouchable. She got within five feet and Patrice almost keeled over in laughter. Not even once had he been forced to shield. He'd countered or dodged every attack so far. Now that she was so close, he added a new element. She was so close as she held her wand in front of her that Harry could direct it away from him or slap at her wrist. Just as she completed a wand movement, he'd direct it away from herself. She had but one option, and it was not one she was ever trained for, physical violence. Patrice knew his daughter wouldn't try for that now. She was too weary to do much more than stand. Sweat was dripping down her face, pooling on her chin and it drizzled off.

He'd never seen his daughter in such a state. Too tired to maintain her rage and looking at him like he was inhuman. The spar ended with Harry plucking her wand from her hand. Harry had both wands in his hands and this time he was sweating as well. Although he was not anywhere close to the dire straits Fleur was in.

Knowing it would make his daughter seethe, and the all-important factor that she was too tired to retaliate in any manner, he patted her head gently, akin to patting your pet dog's head lovingly, and spoke to Harry.

"That was quite impressive." There was nothing insincere about the comment. "Up for one more?"

Harry looked at him oddly with a raised eyebrow. "There's no way she could."

Patrice took off his outer, heavier, robe and began moving to the starting position that Fleur occupied previously. "Duel me."

Harry shrugged and moved into the starting position. Fleur dragged herself to the side, where she was protected behind the duelling wards. Harry had enjoyed the first two spars; it was nice to have a change from his solo work in the Chamber every day.

He didn't know much about Patrice but he had seen the man's body language change. He was no longer the idly sitting by as he watched his daughter practice. He was a predator on the prowl and his entire demeanour changed as he stood across, ready to duel.

Harry prepared himself and Fleur started the match. Harry wanted to see the tone Patrice set before he engaged. A cutting curse at his neck made it obvious. He wasn't going to hold back. Just the way, Harry would have wanted. The single, neck high, cutting curse was fired before there was a short pause. Patrice ensured Harry and he were on the same unspoken terms. A nod from Harry and the match began in earnest.

Harry's wand was a whirlwind of motion, casting his offensive spells with power and precision.

Patrice, unknown to Harry, was a retired former law enforcement officer. His role had been similar to a special forces member in the muggle police forces. He had been trained by the best veterans of the Great War, in law enforcement. He was retired now and had not kept his skills from atrophying. It did little to temper his overwhelming experiential advantage.

Patrice was a different behemoth. A single shield breaker and simultaneous second spell weren't enough to break his defences. He could counter the second spells easily and his shields were far stronger.

He was cunning and far more dangerous, offensively than his undertrained daughter.

Harry began throwing different combinations at him. A shieldbreaker wasn't useful for anything beyond breaking shields. It was essentially a magical sledgehammer meant to blow through a shield but its effectiveness ended there. There was no versatility in the spell. Smash shields and wash over humans. They'd fallen out of favour because you could try and use a spell like _bombarda_ and accomplish a similar feat, with lesser results, but if it broke through it would still be useful.

Salazar had him using it as one of the four for a very specific reason: it was identical to a stunner. It was a deception that had no real counter. If they didn't shield, or dodge, it could end things. If they did and it was just a shield breaker, it would eviscerate the shield or wash over the wizard. The key was ensuring the wand movements matched. Harry had been ceaselessly practising the spells and had minimized the wand movements so they looked exactly the same. It had the same effect as a baseball pitcher using the exact same delivery for their fastball and breaking ball. The same delivery at vastly different pitch speeds threw off batters and the results were similar here.

The difficult part for Monsieur Delacour was the tenacity of his opponent. Harry's constant attacks still came as quickly as he had thrown them at Fleur. He was out of shape, physically and magically, and tiring. He'd been tagged by two shield breakers and was thankful they weren't stunners. He'd been confident he could beat the younger man but hadn't known how seamlessly Harry could incorporate his exceptional defence into his potent offence. While he dodged, he fired accurate spells and when his shield dropped his blurred wand was immediately counter-attacking. It was hard to get him on his heels.

The longer the spar went on, the better Fleur felt. Her papa was far stronger than she was and she could tell even he was being taken down by Harry's harrying hailstorm.

Patrice needed to win now or he was going to lose on attrition. He was slowing down and wouldn't be able to continue to keep pace with the younger man.

The spells kept coming at a pace that seemed inhuman to have continued this long. The boy was a blur. The constant red spells were making it difficult, he had no tells to differentiate between them. The simple body bind and disarming charm were exceptionally quick spells to cast as well, thankfully they were not the same colour as the other two. It may be simple but it was damn effective.

Drenched in sweat, the elder man decided to call a draw. He didn't need to get stunned or see if the boy put enough power in a disarming charm to bodily throw him when his wand was ripped out of his hand. He also had other plans and wanted to stay fresh. He could pull out his top tier spells but it wouldn't be worth it. He could pull up a mage level shield and transfer it to his off-hand and then begin to use transfiguration to turn the duel. It would tire him out far more than he wished and he had seen more than enough now.

Patrice wanted to see how skilled the boy was. He had a relentless offence but could he seamlessly add in the defensive show he had just put on in the second duel? If he could, nobody his age would touch him. Without the catalyst of a war, the wizarding world grew lax.

This was not a true test of his capabilities. It was a charms duel. Transfiguration brought a whole new element. He could conjure up a solid wall and no longer need to use standard shields at all. He could conjure offensively, or defensively, and even if they were destroyed they would add a whole slew of easily transfigurable material into the duel. This wasn't the time to go all out, he wanted to gauge the boy and now he had. Much could be inferred by this showing.

Using his ability to control the wards in the home, Patrice raised a protective shield between them which stopped the duel.

"Very impressive." He commented, hoping neither realized he ended it to save face.

He was glad to see the boy just nodded and muttered something incomprehensible. His daughter had a different countenance now. She was fuming at her embarrassment but now she was looking at the Potter scion in a way a father never wished to see his precious daughter look at any person of the opposite sex, no matter how much he liked the young man. He fought off the grimace that tried to form on his face.

A small part of him, a tiny fraction that had as many iterations of zero as the number pi followed by the digit one, felt concerned for Harry Potter. Veela were not normal witches and had stronger instincts and he had first-hand experience being hunted by a bird of prey.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"There is a reason I asked you here today beyond visiting with my family and a friendly duel."

Harry had wondered why he was being invited here today. Fleur's note had an urgency to it. It was imperative to be here today and the very reason should be coming now. He was in Patrice Delacour's private study and was letting the man take control of the situation. He was interested, especially when Fleur mentioned their families had connections.

"Your grandfather and my father fought with the ICW against Grindelwald. Charlus and my pere were close friends after the war. We went on a holiday with the Potter family every summer. We had tried to keep the tradition going but were refused contact with you. Relations between England and France are rather cold."

Harry wasn't sure how he could really confirm or deny the story. It seemed credible and it sure would have beaten being at the Dursley home, even for just a short respite, but how could he trust it to be true?

Patrice had waited years to get Harry into his home and he was going to repay the aid the Potter family had given in previous generations.

"The United Kingdom did not officially participate in the war against Grindelwald. Your history books will tell you that Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald in some epic fight and everything ended with rainbows and fairies. The reality of that war still echoes across the continent. It was a long bloody war that had already turned against Grindelwald and his allies. Dumbledore may have stopped their leader from going on a bloody rampage but the rest of his forces were going to lose.

"Charlus Potter was one of the men that volunteered and fought under the ICW banner instead of a national army. He rose through the ranks quickly and captained his own squad. There are three ICW captains of renown from the war: Charlus Potter, Antoine Delacour and Dorea Black."

Seeing the shocked look he stopped here, just as he expected. He could see Harry was hanging on his every word.

"Antoine was my father, Charlus your grandfather and Dorea your grandmother." He smiled fondly before he continued as he recalled the grandparents of the boy in front of him. "Your grandparents married after the war. The bonds made in a time of war were forged and those three were as close as they could be."

He flicked his wand and a picture floated to Harry. A man with a strong resemblance to Patrice was on the right. A grizzled man with a thick black beard was in the middle with his two arms around the man on the right and the woman on the left. The woman was beautiful, in a fearsome way, not that it made sense to Harry. She had black hair tied up in a ponytail and elegant regal features.

"That is the three of them. This picture was taken when their division was discharged after the war had ended. It was taken right here at our estate. If you notice on the left, that is the seat you and Fleur sat in today."

Sure enough, he was right. The odd tree bench with two connected trees was there. Harry's fingers traced the images of his grandparents. He'd never seen them before and it was precious to him, as his photo album from Hagrid.

"That is for you to keep by the way. We have copies. One is displayed in this room." Harry followed the man's gaze to see there was a photo of them standing and laughing together. "There is another downstairs and another in the family wing. I wanted to reconnect our families as I know it would have been important to my father and I believe your family as well."

He had this one specifically for Harry. Fleur had told him he knew nothing of the Delacour family and therefore he would not know of their shared history. Harry held onto it with reverence.

"There is so much to tell you about your family and our shared history. I wanted to make it clear I, and the entire Delacour family, wish to help you. I'd like for you to be able to trust me and see me as the uncle I should have been for you. I'd like to advise you and for you to be close to my wife and daughters." He held his hand up to stop Harry from responding until he was able to get the final word in. "And I know it is not _my_ choice for those to occur. I am espousing my desire and you can accept or reject them. You don't have to decide now either. I would like to be open with you and let you know where we stand."

There was an utterly serious face on the man as he spoke. He was sincere and had obviously had careful consideration in his actions. Harry could tell the man had planned this talk out delicately. He knew that as much as this was a meeting between two previously friendly families it was also the first meeting between the powerful Delacour patriarch and the rapidly rising Potter scion. The boy was already famous and recent results showed endless potential.

Harry chose not to respond verbally. He nodded and tried to keep his expression neutral. He felt he could trust the man at his word, that he was being honest and upfront, but he wasn't naive to think he could not be swindled.

Harry watched as the man opened a drawer and pulled out a number of file folders. He took the top one and handed it to Harry. "Please leaf through it."

Harry frowned as he wondered just what all this was.

There was a name on the folder he was handed.

His name was written on it.

He opened it up, hesitantly, and began to read.

_Harry James Potter._

_Date of Birth: July 31, 1980, Godric's Hollow._

_Parents: James Potter & Lily Potter nee Evans._

_Lineage: Potter, Peverell through Potter. Evans? (unknown)._

_Characteristics: Harry has been observed to be totally unfamiliar with the magical world. First-hand reports indicate he was muggle raised and unaware of magic prior to his eleventh birthday. The boy had perplexing characteristics. Quiet, shy, unconfident, emotionally immature…_

"What the bloody hell is this!?" Harry demanded to know. He hadn't consciously done it but he was out of his chair and he drew his wand.

Patrice put up both of his hands in a gesture known far and wide to mean surrender.

"Harry, will you put away your wand?" His eyes flicked down to the wand in Harry's dominant hand before they returned to looking him in the eye. "I've brought this to your attention to inform you, as a gesture of goodwill." Though the man's hands were raised, he was ready to silently command the wards of his office to render the young man incapable of harming him.

Harry took in the man's posture and breathed deeply, centring himself. He was embarrassed that he was standing with his wand in his hand. He felt violated. The report in front of him had too much private information on the first page, and he'd only read the top part of the first page, and there might be a hundred in the folder for all he knew.

He put his wand back into his holster and sat back down. There was a sour expression on his face. Anger that yearned for release was boiling just below his skin, it did not abate. He was furious this was a long detailed report on him. He could see the table of contents on the inside of the file folder. He had started reading the general overview and executive summary component. There were multiple parts, including psychiatric evaluation and recommendations for interacting with him. He could see appendixes noted. There was a whole appendix for photographs of him and evidence for parts of the report.

"Harry" The elder man drew his attention when he spoke his name. "This is a report I wanted to make you aware of." He waited to make sure he had the teenage wizard's full attention before he continued. "There are powerful families that pay for these kinds of reports. It allows them to keep abreast of major players and important information about them. It is…" He paused and frowned. "Well it's not common at all levels but it is among the very elite of our society. Knowledge is power and if you can pay for these kinds of reports they can pay off handsomely."

Harry gave the man a tight nod and he sat rigidly. He wanted to know more before he reacted again. He beckoned the man to continue.

"You are already aware the Pavlova and Delacour families are acquainted through the Lacroix Ballet Academy. The Black, Pavlova and Delacour families have long been leaders within their spheres of influence. I know, for certain, all three receive this intelligence." He paused to let that sink in.

"From what I have heard, you seemed rather close and familiar with the youngest Pavlova, Natalia. Thought I cannot say unequivocally, I would bet a considerable fortune she has read, and would be familiar with, your file. May I ask you a few questions about your interactions with her?"

Harry took some time to respond. He did not want to talk about whatever was going on between him and Natalia. Yes, he wanted to date her but they hadn't discussed it. He _really_ liked her and they got along so well. He wouldn't divulge anything he thought was private but it wouldn't hurt to answer some innocuous questions.

"Sure, though I may not answer at my own discretion." He responded with a cautious tone. He was seated further back in his chair, not in a position that showed he was fully comfortable though.

Patrice seemed to have expected that response and made nothing of it.

"When you met, was she shy and hard to get more than a few words out of?" He asked with a curious glint in his eyes.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of it and his thoughts were far from it. It may have been a lucky guess but it was rather spot on.

"Was she demure and somewhat plain looking?" He shrewdly moved on to the second question.

"What do you mean by plain?" Harry wanted clarification. He wasn't sure about plain, he remembered being blown away with how beautiful she was.

"She wasn't in anything fancy, her hair was kept plain, probably up in a messy way, and she would not have been dolled up with make-up. Unremarkable clothes that were of muggle origin too."

He hadn't noticed at the time but as he pictured their initial meeting, it was accurate. Her hair was up, she didn't have make-up and when they went to the park she was in muggle clothes, none of them were remarkable. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he tallied up all the correct guesses.

"Did she let you lead the conversation? Did she start out shy and insecure? Would you say it took emotional investment from you to get her to open up a bit?" He fired the questions off after reading some section of the paper.

The sinking feeling plummeted further. The details he was relaying were too eerily similar to what actually occurred. He didn't trust his vocal cords to function properly. He felt like his emotions were a mess. His anger was abating but a whole slew of new ones were swelling up inside him. A storm was about to be churned by the torrent he was flooded with as he answered with an incline of his head.

"I won't continue Harry. You deserve privacy and I can see you are already uncomfortable." Patrice saw the relieved look cross the young man's face. He had already guessed, accurately it would seem, that Natalia had used the recommendations in the briefing to get close to the boy. Ironically, his daughter had done the opposite by being haughty and unapproachable. Arrogance and any form of bullying would set off the boys guards quicker than he could dive for the snitch.

He took the file and turned it back towards the boy. "Read the recommendations section here."

Harry saw why the man had asked such jarring questions. It was a recommendation for how to successfully approach him with romantic notions based upon the compiled reports and understanding of him.

It read like a script of what their opening date was like. Be calm and reserved. Shy and demure. Plain and simple. Wealth, power, and arrogance will drive him away…..

His limited social skills will require patience. Allow him to draw you into conversation….

Fancy makeup, hairstyles and displays of wealth will drive him away…

He will not make the first move physically. He shies away from physical contact…..

The more he read the worse he felt. Had Natalia used this to get close to him? To make her like him?

"When you're ready, I'd like to discuss the Pavlova family with you. Natalia, her parents, siblings and family profile. It would be most beneficial to your circumstance…." He trailed off as he spoke letting the suggestion hang.

Patrice took the remaining file folders and spread them out in front of him.

"Ivan and Sylvia Pavlova." He said gesturing to the two files immediately in front of him. "The head of the family and his wife. They oversee the big picture for the family and set the overall strategy." He didn't have time to consider it as Monsieur Delacour moved on right away. Harry's attention was drawn to the two beside it. "Sasha and Elena Pavlova. Sasha is the eldest and married a Bulgarian bride. They are responsible for their Bulgarian holdings."

Harry saw just how much information was contained when he opened it up. Their table of contents was far greater than his own had been. The file was many times larger as well. Even the wife, Elena, had a larger folder than his own.

"Hans is the second oldest and runs the family affairs in Germany, along with his wife Lea. Though the family is strongest in Bulgaria, they have extensive sway in parts of Germany." Harry was now beginning to understand the kind of power and reach this family might have. It explained why Lacroix was hesitant to even introduce him to Natalia in the first place.

"Next we have Igor and his Russian bride Yulia. Though Magical Russia is still rather desolate, they run that theatre of the family operations. The Pavlova family hailed from Russia. When Tsar Nicholas II was overthrown, wizards were hunted and killed off if they had not fled the country."

That was quite a bit of information to unpack. He recalled a Tsar from his muggle classes but it was hard to recall more than mere minute details from those classes. If his memory was advising him correctly, the event would have taken place around the First World War. Patrice moved onto the final pair that he had laid out for him.

"Maria, Natalia's older sister. She married Klaus Ehrhoff. It was a shrewd pairing to further consolidate their political prestige and economic interests in Germany."

Patrice waited until he garnered the boy's full attention again. "As you can see, the family is not one you can just waltz into with a casual dinner invite from a girl who has caught your eye. You need to read Natalia's file and familiarize yourself with it." He had been talking to Harry as if he was briefing or lecturing him in politics. He broke from this to make his final point.

"I've never met Natalia. I cannot say if she genuinely is interested in you nor do I know if it was a machination of her family. I believe you need to have your eyes opened and have all the facts so you can make informed decisions. You will find our two families are not on the best of terms. And that brings me to another matter I wanted to do in person."

He dropped his hand below the height of the desk and when he brought it back up there was an envelope in his hand. He handed it to Harry without comment. Harry saw it was addressed to him and opened it up. It was an elegant and elaborate invitation to the Delacour Ball. Harry noticed the date: Dec 27th. It was scheduled for tomorrow night.

"The ball is typically held on Yule. As Fleur would not have been able to attend, we moved it to the 27th. I have tried to owl you an invite ever year only for all of them to fail to be delivered, it was no different this year. I hope you will be able to attend on short notice. If you wished to bring Natalia Pavlova, I will not raise an issue even though the Pavlova family has long been barred from attendance."

Harry rose his eyes to look back at the man, pulling his eyes off the flashy invitation. "Why are they barred?"

Patrice sighed and had a melancholic look to him as he explained. "You were at the World Cup, yes?" When he received Harry's non-verbal affirmation he continued, "Bulgaria and France make up the two predominant areas for veela. You may find them in other countries but almost all of them are situated in one of the two countries. Since the fall of Russia's magical world, many of their policies have slipped into Bulgaria. France and Bulgaria used to both recognize veela as humans with magical traits and not as second class citizens, as inhuman creatures. Veela are protected and treated like any other wizard or witch in France. Bulgaria was that way until earlier this century. The small-mindedness from Russia insidiously crept into their legislation and since Grindelwald's rise, they have been classified as creatures. The Pavlov family was a part of it."

Harry saw the man looked tired and somewhat saddened as he educated him. It was either a very good act or genuine emotion for a topic he was passionate about. As Harry was learning, it was very difficult to understand another's true motivations. He'd thought Natalia was totally genuine but now he had no idea.

Patrice sighed before he finished his explanation. "When you are married to a veela and have two veela daughters, you'll find you can't imagine letting someone treat them as second class citizens. To call them inhuman and degrade them for their lineage. The Pavlova family was a part of the Russian nobility that left after the fall of their Tsar. They openly supported Grindelwald until they turned on him at the _very_ end of the war. Even now, in the ICW, they do their best to block legislation that would require member nations to recognize all veela as equals with ordinary wizards and witches. And I will _not_ let those kinds of people into my home for a festive celebration." There was an underlying strength carried in his tone, steel tempered with adamant resolve.

"And you're willing to let me bring Natalia if I wished?" After hearing just how the man spoke about the issue, he wanted to be 100% sure.

Harry watched as he took a moment to think through his response. "I'd prefer you would find another date or take Fleur, but, I'd rather have you there. I can also admit I do not know if she is like her parents. She's a bit of a quandary. Some reports indicate she may be held in poor esteem by her family and others show she is another Pavlova… I'd like to advise you but I won't make decisions for you. Support not dictate."

It felt sincere and it seemed real.

But was it?

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry wasn't sure exactly how he'd found his way here. He'd left Patrice Delacour's office and made his way out to the garden. Apolline was assisting Gabrielle with her nightly routine and Patrice had stayed behind to complete some work he had neglected earlier, or so he said.

He wanted to get outside and think. The fresh air and beautiful scenery felt like a balm to his troubled mind. He was so out of his league.

He let his mind wander. There was too much he was unsure about in his world: Voldemort, Slytherin, Dumbledore, Pavlova, Delacour, Sirius, Weasleys, Hermione…. The list just grew all the time. The thing he missed the most about being an orphan was not having someone in your corner as parents were supposed to be unconditionally supportive. He knew not all were but it didn't stop him longing for it.

Unbidden, his feet took him down the same path he'd taken with Fleur earlier in the day. He found her sitting in the same seat they had occupied earlier.

"'Arry, did papa send you to fetch little ol' moi?" She flashed him a sultry smile, she readied herself to rise and go with him.

"No, err… I was just trying to think… and I just kind of walked here?" He sounded unsure, because he was. He'd been totally caught up in his own thoughts and heedless of where he was going.

"Oh" Her smile brightened at the passing thought he may have sought her out intentionally. "Feel free to sit zen 'arry. Anything I could help with?" Her accent was really mild but she seemed to always accentuate his name with a strong french twist. She patted the seat beside her, to beckon him to sit.

Harry did _not_ want to talk to her about who was and was not trustworthy. The gorgeous girl was still a puzzle to him.

"Did you keep your replica dragon?" He did not think anyone else had a 'Cuddles' type miniature dragon. The model he was given at the actual task had been rendered back into a rock.

"I kept it in my room. Ze charms have worn off but I thought it was a good keepsake, non?"

Harry had sat beside her and any gap between them was closed right away. Their hips and legs now touched but she wasn't making a move on him, not this time anyway.

"Yes, I kept mine as well. How long did your charms last?" It was the ritual. He'd messed it up, that much was clear already. He should never have been in such pain according to the book. Having a sentient magical creature, as a result, was another obvious clue.

Harry looked off into the distance. The air was crisp but not too cool. He wondered if there were some environmental charms at work, regulating the temperature.

He hadn't given his little buddy much time the past couple days. He'd been so busy with the ball he'd neglected her. He was certain he would pay for it. The little gremlin would punish him for his gall of ignoring him. With his now closed eyes, he could very well picture the horntail. Though he would never admit it to the blasted beast, Harry enjoyed the comfort and the familiar presence in his lair. Working on his magical skills was gruelling and having Cuddles around was comforting.

He breathed in the fresh air and felt content. His life wasn't perfect but he was happy with where it was trending.

He'd soundly beaten Fleur today. He knew Patrice could have crushed him. He kept it a simple game of checkers. He could have added many layers of complexity to their fight and not even been gracious to allow the ceasefire. Harry wouldn't call it a draw, the man would have beat him if he'd wanted to. He knew the man was powerful and incredibly competent. It was still a more than satisfactory display. He could sleep soundly with his showing.

Something jostled him from his musings. Harry opened his eyes with a start. Fleur was crouched in front of him and shaking his shoulder.

"'arry! Wake up!" She had both of her hands on his shoulders and rocked his body backwards and forwards, trying to jerk him back to consciousness.

"I'm awake! Err… why are you shaking me?" He was startled and confused. Wasn't he just talking to her? If she'd said something he would have noticed. He'd only close his eyes for a minute.

"You didn't answer. Papa called us in and you didn't answer. Zen I tried to get your attention but you were asleep?" She was exasperated and worried about him. He shouldn't have zoned out, nor fallen asleep, so quickly, if that's what happened.

He was as confused as he sounded. "Oh, I didn't hear you? I was... just thinking."

He saw the change in her face and knew he'd left an easy opening for her to tease him. "Well, I did ask if you'd accompany me to our family ball. Thinking of little ol' moi?" The predatory glint in her eye dared him to contradict her.

No chance he was going to open up that can of worms right now. "Oh, did you ask me?"

"You really didn't hear me ask?" She frowned, whether it was due to his avoidance of the question or his lack of hearing her he could not tell, it may have been both or something else too. Who knew what went on in a woman's head.

"No. Did you know your father permitted me to ask Natalia to come?" He was comfortable with Natalia, well somewhat less now. He would not be solely on his own as Natalia would be on her own together with him.

He saw the pout on her face and did not let it affect him.

"Are you sure you'd not go wiz moi?" She asked. The two were up and walked arm-in-arm again as they headed back toward the Delacour home.

"I don't feel right taking her as a date to something on the 25th and then going with another girl two days later." It was a half-truth similar to how Headmaster Dumbledore spoke. He smirked, a little, at the thought.

From the expression Fleur gave, she was aware it was a half-truth.

"Are you sure you can trust her?" He could see how she was trying to undermine their relationship. She wasn't taking a shot at her rival. Instead, she was planting seeds of doubt.

It was a question he was asking himself already.

Could he trust Natalia?

Moreover, who could he trust?

It felt like the only one who he could trust was himself.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not dead and not abandoned. Life, especially work, has been busy. I'll keep plugging away as best as I can to push this forward. Been so long I'm not sure what reviews I should respond to. My PMs are open, mostly. One of the things I love about fanfic is the author & reader interaction. When you buy a book at the store you don't get to dialogue with the writer, especially not while it's being written.
> 
> I feel like the first part was done with Chapter 12 and now it's time to move into the next. Expect it to take some time to complete the yule break for students. Sirius, Remus, Weasleys, another Ball, and so much more coming. I have no idea on my update schedule. I write as I can and am hoping I continue to enjoy it so I'm still writing fics in a decade or more.
> 
> The dance scenes with specific moves discussed are pretty well done. Unless the plot or characters demand it, I don't plan on writing it again. For anyone curious, I've never danced the waltz in my life and anything I learned was from researching it. As a side note, Pavlova is a russian dessert that was named after Anna Pavlova a famous russian ballerina. It was a weird wiki fact that kind of stuck in my brain. I did debate calling Natalia Anna but kept it separate.
> 
> Thanks to Haphne24 for all the beta work.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading. All the favs/follows/reviews and feedback are awesome.


	14. Meet The Fockers

The Chamber of Secrets, or more pertinent, the chamber of unravelled secrets. That would be a more apt name for his home. Harry was in the midst of a maelstrom and every time he paddled out, he would get sucked back in, further and deeper.

The carriage ride he had with Natalia. Was that another lie, an elaborate deception? Was the bearing of her inner motivations a lie?

Harry pulled out the small booklet she had given him for his Yule gift, one that was connected to hers. Its function was to transmit what was written, instantaneously.

_We need to talk. ASAP. In-person._ Harry wrote.

It wasn't the kind of thing he would normally consider writing, but he needed to sort this out. Fleur was interested and he had clicked with Natalia. Yet, as attractive of an option dating either might be, he had more pressing issues.

He needed to get an update from Madame Bones. To see if they could share anything about Voldemort and his lack of demise. He still had to find out why Voldemort was after him in particular and what kind of connection they had. He wanted to find out more about the Potter and Black families. He wanted to sort out his status there.

A talk with Dumbledore was necessary to sort out his education. How useful could Flitwick and McGonagall be? What about professors like Babbling and Vector? He still had time to figure that out and it would sure be nice to not be stuck in the chamber day after day, all alone. Meeting the headmaster would lead to meeting with Sirius, Remus, Weasleys and anyone else they roped along. He had to deal with that soon too.

Another ball to attend… he'd need proper clothing, again. He knew he couldn't wear the same clothes. He'd need to rely on Lacroix, Natalia or Fleur.

There was one bright spot. He knew, for sure, that their dragons were not like his black and bronze minion. He hadn't expected they would be but he now had confirmation. They were models, like the one he got at the task. His stealing of the model, the night before, and the dragon ritual had done _something._

Rituals are built off of intent. What was he thinking when he underwent the ritual. What was his express goal when it happened?

It was hard to remember. He was exhausted and a bit delirious from blood loss. He'd returned to the prepared ritual chamber. Very few rituals required him to strip out of his clothes and this one had not. Only magical items. He never kept magical items in his pockets. He'd taken off his wand holster and left his outside the room like he did every time except this time. Cuddles was in his pocket and he had forgotten to remove her.

The point of the ritual was to absorb power, the essence of the dragon, to make his magic denser. Rituals responded to intent. How did they mix? How did he end up with Cuddles?

His thoughts were broken by a response.

_I'm free today. Is something wrong? When and where? I need to talk to you too._

Harry picked up the quill again and after dipping it in the inkpot he wrote his response.

_Lacroix's open today?_

He didn't have to wait long as she had awaited his response.

_Yes._

That was good. They could meet and he could see about last-second robes and a date. Fleur would go but he wanted to be cautious. The Delacour's were _very _comfortable. He'd been so at ease, and that bothered him, greatly. He'd never been so familiar with a family as he had with them. It felt wrong. It didn't seem false but he was willing to hedge his bet by bringing Natalia. There was no love between the two families. The way the two girls sniped at each other, at the Yule Ball, had no felt anything less than ardent.

_Can you meet there in 15?_

When he got the affirmative response, he groaned.

Today was going to be a bother.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Why don't we do anything else, Harry? All we've ever done is walk and talk around here." Natalia was teasing the entirely too stoic guy walking beside her. It was obvious something had happened. They hadn't talked since the ball but something had changed. They weren't picking back up where they'd left off. He was more reserved, he stood further and there was no kiss at their greeting.

He'd talked with Lacroix before she got there and hadn't really said much.

It was a wonderful winter day. Slightly above freezing temperature with the sun beating down providing warmth for those out in the elements. The frigid air contrasted wonderfully with the warmth the sun's rays provided on their exposed skin.

Harry looked at her with a somewhat pained expression.

He kept silent until they made it to the bench they were familiar with, though the space between them was not.

"I've been invited to the Delacour Ball; it's tonight. Do you want to be my date?"

"Of course I'd love to." She replied. She closed the distance between them and hugged, Harry, didn't return it. She gave him a questioning look.

Harry exhaled deeply. This wasn't going to be fun.

"I read the file." Harry wasn't looking at her; he didn't want to see the deceit.

"The file?" She parroted back in confusion.

A chill hit her. She wasn't used to the space between them, the lack of warmth was unkind in this weather.

"The one that details how to get close to me, all the background information and how to manipulate me to get what you want." The hardness in his voice did was not unnoticed.

Natalia sunk in her seat. She felt like the bench had lowered itself to the ground. The revelation explained the cold demeanour.

Harry didn't need to hear her respond; he'd seen it all in her defeated body language. His thoughts had been plagued by what action he should take since he found out about the file. He'd decided upon this path as he physically worked out earlier in the morning.

"Was any of it real?" He queried softly to the girl that was still slumped beside him on the bench.

She put the palms of her hands on the bench and lifted herself up, back into proper posture. Her head was still bowed and she did not respond right away. She had vacant eyes staring down at the ground. Her eyes did not look up as she answered. "No? Yes?..." She paused and looked at him now. "I don't know."

Harry scoffed at her. "You don't know?"

He mockingly replied. "You expect me to believe that?" He asked, exasperated at her non-answer and his next sentence was growled out at her.

"You think I'll fall for that?" His anger had grown with each successive line, though he'd kept it within himself. The worst of his anger, and feelings of betrayal, were dealt with in the chamber.

He hadn't been sure how she would respond but he thought denial was most likely, followed by crying and anger. Instead, he saw none of those. She sat there, calmer than he would have ever bet on for a situation as tense as this.

"I've told you about much of my life Harry." She stopped looking at him. She looked out over the landscape as she spoke in a hollow voice. "I'm Natalia Pavlova. I'm the unneeded daughter, the extra bride to find a suitable match for. The disappointment that could do nothing as well as her siblings. I'm merely a _ballet dancer_." The final two words were inflected in a way Harry guessed as her imitation of something she'd been told many times.

"I'm the frigid bitch upholding the family name at Durmstrang. I've got it perfected. The 'I'm a Pavlova and you're beneath my notice' attitude, the glare as well. I'm the socialite at parties ensuring our family is well thought of and everyone is enamoured by my beauty, charm and intelligence. And I'm the failure, the one that can do nought but dance." She laughed at herself with a low void chuckle.

"The first time they've told me they were proud of me was when they saw the paper yesterday, or at least since I can remember." Her gaze found his. "Our picture, it was on the front page. They _congratulated_ me for _finally_ acting like a Pavlova." She wasn't crying but her tear ducts were close to spilling over, her body still slightly slumped and distraught.

"I was taught to wear different masks ever since I can remember. Dependant on who I was with, where I was and what role I was to play it dictated which one I wore. I've worn masks my whole life; I don't even know who I am beneath them. What's real? What's not?" The self defeatism in her tone was abundantly clear to Harry.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of this girl. Was this true? Was this a mask? Was she playing her part well again or was this genuine, the real McCoy.

The pause brought some clarity to her mind. A question came to the forefront of her mind in the silence. "Why did you ask me to the ball first?" The thought, turned into her vocalized question, gave her hope it may not be over. He engaged her to continue seeing each other first and then aired grievances, odd.

Harry gave her a sardonic look. "It's at the Delacour's invitation and I'm either escorting Fleur or yourself. I don't really know the Delacour's and though we have some shared history I don't know their true intentions towards me." There was little harm, in Harry's mind, revealing the information. It showed there was, at minimum, minor levels of trust between them.

"Are we okay?" Natalia cringed as she asked. She felt like a little girl asking for parents if they still loved her after a scolding. Her voice still uneasy.

Harry shrugged. He really didn't know what to say to her. He didn't trust her as much as he once did. Between the revelations at the ball and what the Delacour family had done, it was egregiously eroded. "No? Yes?... I don't know?"

She caught his lazy smirk and the repetition of her previous answer. She pushed his shoulder and he snickered in response.

"You think you're so funny." She replied, caustically.

His easy-going demeanour returned a little with the familiar interplay between them. They'd sat here on more than a couple nights and had gotten to know each other better, how well Harry did not know.

"You realize if you're going with me tonight, you'll need a dress. Lacroix is already arranging a few outfits for me so I don't need to ask her for any help for a while." He laughed at the look of her that had dawned on her face.

"You go get ready, how about we meet at Lacroix's in five hours?" He grinned stupidly at her, enjoying the diffusion of tension between them again.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry had decided today was a good day for confrontations. Mention the file to Natalia, go to another ball and before that, talk to Dumbledore. Taking Natalia was strategic; the Delacour's would believe he was still interested in her and would be very wary around her. Putting them out of their comfort zone might reveal something. Dumbledore though, he had no idea what to expect meeting the headmaster. He wasn't _that_ worried Dumbledore would do anything overt to wrestle control of himself back to him. He was still worried he would be out of his depth and brought along a familiar comfort Cuddles. Nobody knew of the dragon and it would cause one hell of a shock if he needed to reveal her.

He trudged up the stairs to the headmaster's office and knocked on the door.

"Come in Harry." Came the muffled, yet strong, voice of a man he once considered a pseudo grandfather.

He strode into the room and seated himself in the chair in front of the powerful wizard, he sat and awaited him to begin the conversation.

The man presented himself far less in the grandfatherly, patronizing, way he usually had. Harry wondered if it was more of the real man sitting here now than he'd ever seen before.

"I'll begin with a two-fold congratulations. First, in your outmanoeuvring of myself, and others, to achieve your status as an emancipated minor. You reached far beyond where I had expected and flanked the roadblocks I had put in place, though not without assistance. It is a congratulation because your actions have shown me how far you've grown and that is to say it surpassed my expectations. And secondly, your scores were not merely adequate as your previous grades here would suggest. I've seen the memory of your tests and your skills have come a long way, so I applaud your hard work."

This was not what Harry was expecting. How foolish was he to consider he could come close to even match the prowess of the man before him. He wasn't the head of the governmental bodies of the UK and ICW for lack of skill. How naive and silly was he to think he could even stand on the playing field with such a man.

"Thanks." He tried to keep his burgeoning cynicism under control, to not let it lead out his mouth.

Dumbledore put on a wan of a smile before jumping to his next topic. "I've seen your reports of your tutelage under Madame Lacroix," He gave a piercing look to Harry, one that told the younger man 'I know' before he continued. "And I'd like to give some advice. There are three people alive born to the Black family: Sirius Black, Narcissa Malfoy and Andromeda Tonks. Sirius was removed from his training as the Black Heir when he rebelled and joined Gryffindor. Narcissa is not someone I'd think you'd do well to closely acquaint with and that leaves Andromeda. The Black sister that was taught as a revered Black until she broke away from the family. She'd make an excellent choice in learning your role as the Regent Black."

As much as he attempted, the shock showed and Harry slumped back in his chair. He had no idea about it and Lacroix said she only knew because of the contract she had with the Black family. Perhaps it shouldn't surprise him. Dumbledore knew his parents and their parents. He knew every able-bodied witch and wizard that went through Hogwarts for decades on end.

Harry had no idea how to respond.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he filled in the gap, due to the lack of vocal response, Harry had left vacant. "I've made mistakes and I want you to know I'm not against you. Perhaps it is my old age that overlooked some things as trivial that you believe are real grievances. I've only worked towards your benefit since the moment I gained your guardianship and now that I no longer have it, it will not stop me from willingly assisting you."

Harry finally regained his threshold after being mentally incapacitated by the stunning direction the one-sided conversation had taken. "How would Andromeda Tonks be of help?" He asked gently.

Dumbledore seemed pleased with the response as he answered in a more lecture-like manner. "She is no longer a Black but she was trained to take on the duties of her parents before she abruptly eloped with her boyfriend, against the match her family had set for her. She is older than Narcissa and it was well known Bellatrix was not a stable young woman. Andromeda was the choice and was prepared as such. Sirius was too young to have learned much and, though I cannot confirm it, I expect he has been barred from taking up his birthright as the Headship of the Black family. She, and her husband, are both lawyers of considerable skill and would be able to assist too. This is without mentioning the Tonks family knew your parents as well."

Harry could see how pleased Dumbledore was with the pathway of this conversation. The last comment was a typical barb. Oddly enough reading his own file allowed him to understand other's manipulations of him. Give him information, build his self-worth, extend trust, let him have power to make his own decisions, and appeal to his longing for family. It was all there in the file. He had hated just how right it was. It took some time to occur that many of the ways to manipulate him, the things he thought were faults, were actually normal. Everyone wants community, they want to be recognized for their achievements. He was not at fault for being human.

"Do you mind telling me why you are concerned with me taking up the Black Regency? I'd come here to talk about education and you've led us astray from the get-go." Harry inquired, deflecting away from the family comment. He couldn't beat Dumbledore in all this bullshit half truthed dialogue. He wasn't strong or experienced enough and that left him one option: evasion.

Dumbledore seemed to take his sweet time getting around to answering.

"The Malfoy's have usurped quite a lot of the economic and political influence because Narcissa was the only adult Black left, even though she is not a Black anymore. With the return of the Black family, they will lose prestige and influence which I think we can easily agree is mutually beneficial." Harry didn't like the way Dumbledore phrased that. Mutually beneficial was a rather different phrasing to something like 'good thing'. Did he not see it as good? Just better than the alternative?

"What do you know about the connection between Potter and Delacour?" If the man wasn't going to hit on the reason he'd come, perhaps he could pump him for some information.

Dumbledore's eyebrows furrowed for a second before his face lit up in recognition. "Ah, you've met Patrice? Are you attending their ball this evening? Alas, my duties will keep me from attending this year." He let out a light chuckle as he spoke, his eyes twinkling merrily.

Was the old man just putting on a show of just how much more informed he was than Harry? He was going to ignore it. "I was trying to ask if you knew much about our families connection. Aside from what Patrice told me, I know very little."

"I presume he told you of your grandparents and his own father?" Harry indicated he had with a bob of his head. "Well, there's little more to say really. The three remained close until their deaths and I believe your father and Patrice stayed in regular contact until they went under the Fidelius charm. Beyond that, I was not privy."

Well, it was good to at least have it confirmed. He could use Natalia's family to expose the dirt on the Delacour's. They had no problem painting the Pavlova's in a negative light to get closer to Harry and he supposed the reverse would be true too.

"Thanks." Harry smiled when he saw Fawkes flash into the room. One more item to ask about. Cuddles was beyond him. He'd puzzled over just what she was and had come to virtually nothing useful. "There is something I'd like to ask you about before we get to the academic discussion." He could see Dumbledore's interest as the man focused on him sharply. "I've gained a familiar of sorts and wondered if you would be able to share any advice or insight as to what I might expect. You're the only wizard I know with a magical creature as your familiar after all."

Seeing the dumbfounded expression, even if it was a very brief moment, was the icing on the cake. He reached into his pocket and withdrew Cuddles. The dragon stretched and took in the two other occupants of the room. She gave a withering look to her favourite playmate Fawkes.

Dumbledore scrutinized the small dragon in front of him. He drew his wand and sought Harry's permission before casting anything. Harry nodded his assent and watched as Dumbledore mumbled out detection spells of various sorts, or what he assumed they were as he did not recognize the exact spells. Dumbledore's eyebrows were furrowed further as he continued, Harry thought he might be getting somewhat frustrated by the results.

"This is your... familiar?" The way he asked made it clear he was unsure of what word to use, the heightened inflexion in his tone when speaking the word after a pause.

His deep blue eyes lacked the twinkle as the intelligence hidden behind them took in every detail they could possibly garner, from both the dragon and boy. "I've never seen this species before…. And though I may not be as knowledgeable about the intricacies of magical creatures as my celebrated colleague, Newt Scamander, I am thoroughly versed in the various species… none of which are in front of me." He paused and watched the young wizard closely before he continued.

"If I had to guess, I would venture," he used his wand to prod the dragon to get a look at the underbelly of the dragon, "this is an offshoot of a Hungarian Horntail. The physique is similar but its shading is too dark. There is a bronze sheen, seen easily in reflections from light, but it is not a purebred horntail, that is not mentioning the obvious size issue."

Harry watched as Dumbledore recomposed himself back toward the headmaster he'd been familiar interacting with. "Though there is one prominent feature that I have not mentioned that make it a rather startling discovery. Do you know what it is my boy?"

Harry had been aware of the species being dissimilar to the textbook descriptions of a Hungarian Horntail. He had assumed it was the presence of the other two dragon's essences from the ritual. He theorized if it was just the horntail it would have stayed just like that, though he wasn't sure if it would have enough power to do whatever it was that made Cuddles a sentient being instead of a model.

"No, I'm not sure." He responded after giving it some thought. Dumbledore's eyes bored into him and Harry felt uneasy about the exchange. The impromptu staring contest lasted for mere seconds but Harry thought it was minutes. The steely look from the aged professor did not fade as he spoke.

"Curious. I trust you've found some irregularities with your… familiar?"

"Yes." Came the soft simple reply from Harry.

"Please describe them," Dumbledore asked in a manner that reminded Harry of McGonagall's _requesting_ a student do something more akin to a thinly veiled command, though he noted it was not malevolent at all. Harry surmised it was more Dumbledore needing to confirm his suspicions or gain a new variable to solve the equation.

"Well, I've found her mannerisms are not wholly draconic. At times she acts just like I would think a dragon would… and then she acts as she does now. She's a dragon perched happily in my hand content to spend time cuddle up on me. Everything I've read makes it kind of clear dragon's aren't normally tactile creatures, especially with humans." Harry would not be giving away the incident of the parseltongue; he did not want Dumbledore to be aware of that.

He was honestly at an impassable chasm. Dumbledore's overwhelming magical knowledge was his hope to bridge the gap and understand more about his dragon.

Dumbledore slowly stroked his index and middle fingers in a pinching motion with his thumb through his beard rubbing his chin as he rolled the new information over in his mind. His eyes seemed distant, lost in their own world, and his face had a look Harry had not seen before. There was a calm look with strong hints of enjoyment. It reminded him of Hermione finding out new information and the sheer joy she had to work on a theory in her mind. It was the first time he could say he'd seen the man _enjoying_ himself. He'd laughed and had found enjoyment in other things before, such as the twins' pranks, or when he had the mischievous twinkle in his eye awarding all the points at the end of his first year, but they were enjoyment at something outward. He hadn't seemed to have this sort of unguarded expression in the past around Harry. It was something he filed away for future consideration.

"Yes… I believe…" He stopped his mildly audible muttering and cast a few more spells, his eyebrows rose on his face and his eyes widened with the last spell. A look of accomplished insight came across his face before he turned his focus back to Harry. "As sure as I am that this dragon is a new species, or at the least a subspecies, I am certain this is not wholly a dragon." His eyes twinkled as he saw Harry's shocked expression.

"N- no- not fully a dragon?" He asked, bewildered at the very thought, with no inclination on what the could possibly even mean.

Dumbledore smiled widely at him, it was so rare, these days, he was able to find something entirely new in the magical world. "That's correct. One of the first things I checked was to see if it was, in fact, a dragon- and it is. You'll have no issues registering it as a miniature dragon familiar with the ministry. The reason I asked further was that I could sense it's magic, it's human magic."

Harry blinked, then blinked again. "What?"

Seeing the corners of Dumbledore's mouth rise was a clear indication that the man enjoyed this moment. "From what I can tell it is a dragon, but it is infused with your magic as well."

"I used the word 'familiar' in a rather loose sense. A familiar is normally bonded to their companion." He peered over at the perched Fawkes. The majestic phoenix preened and then flapped its wings to making its way over onto the desk beside his bondmate. The headmaster ran his hand along the length of the bird eliciting obvious happiness from the bird. "Fawkes and I share a magical bond, however, you and your dragon do not. It's more than a bond as a part of your magic is in the dragon. It is as close to being an extension of yourself as it is to a bonded familiar." The man seemed far too happy with just how ridiculous this was all sounding as he lectured Harry. "In fact, I'd say this is the most unique magic I've encountered in decades." He spoke with unbidden gaiety.

If Harry's eyebrows were any more scrunched up they would be touching they would be. "I'm not sure I understand…"

"I dare say there isn't a soul on this earth that would." Harry looked up at the elder man sharply at the proclamation. "I believe this is a unique phenomenon. Whatever method you used is unseen in the magical world. A miniature magical creature that is infused with a wizard's magic… it's astonishing to think about…" Harry was uncertain of just what he meant by that. Hopefully, it would be explained next.

"I would theorize you should be able to connect to your… familiar. The exact effects you would need to explore yourself. For bonded familiar's, the wizard, or witch, gains something. Fawkes, for instance, can tell if I need him. When I call out for him, it resonates within him and he flashes to my side. He has an instinctual habit of knowing what I need. In battle, he has taken curses meant to kill me when I was unable to evade them. I don't gain Fawkes' magic, his abilities or anything from the bond. Just what I've described and the use of the phoenixes capabilities.

"Now your situation is different. Think of my bond with Fawkes as a string that connects us. We can say or think things that resonate from one to the other. But, it is an outward connection. None of my magic permeates Fawkes and none of his is within me. It's like an addition that if it was missing wouldn't change the physical structure. Like an umbrella in a meadow to protect you from the sun, it augments the meadow, it is not a part of it. Your connection is _different_. Your magic is _within_ the dragon. Your connection should be… _more_. My belief is the discrepancies between how a dragon _should_ act and how it _is_ acting is due to your subconscious will. Right now you wish for it to be acting as she is and so she is."

Both of their eyes watched the dragon. It was calmly sitting in his hand and had not once made an issue of having spells cast on it nor had it gone away from him on some sort of feral fire torrent rampage.

"I will caution your line of thought. This is still a dragon. It has an infusion of your magic but there is no doubt it is still a dragon. I would wager it has all the instincts and behaviours of a dragon but your magic is able to… temper them. As to any abilities or attributes, you will need to experiment and work on that."

Harry just sat in his seat. His mind churning over and over. The ritual had created something totally unexpected, even for one such as Dumbledore. It was incredible, fantastic and scary.

"Harry," Dumbledore said gaining the boy's attention back from his introspection. "I do have other commitments today and we have two more topics to cover." Harry focused back on the headmaster; he could experiment later.

"The main reason for you seeking me out was to discuss your education here. You mentioned you would not be willing to be a student but would like to interact more. Did you have an idea of what you wished for?" He asked back in the familiar guise of the wise and caring headmaster.

"Uh, well not fully. I'd like to take some meals here so I and socialize and it would be helpful to have access to the library and talk with professors. Is something workable like that?" He asked hopefully.

Dumbledore hummed and hawed for a moment considering the request. "It would be permissible. The foreign students have those privileges so they could be provided to you as well without issue. But, I'd like to hear about your future educational plans. Will you attend here next year? Your ancestors have all attended this institution of magic since its founding. I'd dare say none of your esteemed ancestors attended elsewhere since the gates of Hogwarts have opened. It would be a shame to break from that tradition." The half-hidden smirk let Harry know Dumbledore knew that he knew exactly what he was doing. But if he knew, that Harry knew, would that mean he knew and therefore it made what he knew irrelevant? Harry knew he didn't match up to the political acumen of the man in front of him.

"I think I will return next year to finish my studies but a lot can happen between now and then. I know I'm now ahead in the wanded classes but I need to catch up in the others and I will need practical experience that is difficult to attain without facilities like the Hogwarts greenhouses." He shrugged at the end, Dumbledore was a headmaster and obviously would know all this.

"I hope you still know I'm not your enemy Harry. I've treated you as a naive child and not provided explanations for my actions regarding your person." Harry could feel the familiar ire for the man building within him, specifically from leaving him with his so-called _family_. "It is only just recently that I've seen maturity. Just so it is plainly clear, I knew of the loophole Marchbanks suggested. Only a determined student would have impressed her so; you don't have the prerequisite knowledge to be aware of that option on your own. There is a difference in learning by being told what to do versus learning by resolving problems with guidance. I'm pleased to see you are taking the initiative to grow, to mature and to better yourself."

Harry's ire had been depleting itself the more he listened. He'd been so focused on the past actions that he'd not considered much of the man's reasoning for his actions.

"Visit as often as you'd like. I know your friends and many faculty have been wanting to speak to you and stay updated on your progress. Speaking of which, when are you able to visit the Weasleys, Sirius and Remus? I know they have been very concerned without being able to see or communicate with you."

Harry laughed inwardly. He could well imagine an irate Mrs Weasley flooing Dumbledore and sending howlers for having 'lost' Harry Potter. Sirius and Remus he could understand but to lesser degrees as well. Neither had deigned to ensure regular contact beyond intermittent and measly letters so not a whole lot would have changed in reality. It would appear different, as they had no contact with him, but they wouldn't have missed much.

"I'm at the Delacour Ball later today and tomorrow but the day after I'm free. Would it be possible to visit Sirius and Remus then the Weasley family?"

"Sirius is free for any time you are available. He's in a rather secure, but inhospitable, location and told me you can visit any time, day or night. Remus is staying with him helping make the place more... friendly. In fact, here, read this."

Harry watched as he took out a piece of parchment and put it in front of him. It had an address of a home on Grimmauld Place in it.

"Do you understand the importance of what I've done?" Dumbledore asked as he took the parchment back and slid it into his robes.

Harry shook his head.

"I'm the secret keeper for the home. I've shared the location with you so you may now visit. I understand you have an apparition license." Harry sighed at the casual dropping of information the man could obtain on him, with apparent ease. "The rest of the Weasley family is actually back in town as well, both Bill and Charlie too. In fact, Charlie would be rather interested in looking at your familiar."

A dragon handler interested in a new breed of dragon; he sure would. Harry saw Dumbledore pull out a form of some kind and he began to fill it out. Harry watched as he whirled through it before holding it out before Harry with aplomb. "If you send this to your friend, Madame Bones, she can sign alongside me, the Chief Warlock, to confirm your status as having a bonded miniature dragon familiar. Perhaps, I'll send it along with Fawkes to her. Please sign here." He indicated a spot for Harry to sign and handed him a quill. Harry read through the form, not willing to blindly trust him by signing it immediately, and when he had completed his read through, he signed in the aforementioned spot.

Dumbledore didn't take it as a sign of ill content between the two. "Another good sign of maturity. Had I placed a form like that before you last year, I expect you would have just signed it." He smiled but Harry thought it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Take the floo to visit Sirius anytime in the morning. I'll inform him you are coming and let Molly know you'll be coming for lunch. My door is always open to you."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"You acquitted yourself quite well at dinner. I thought my family would drive you sparse!" Natalia whispered at him while leading him to their informal sitting area. Tonight was the third night in four days she was able to spend with Harry. The Yule Ball, Delacour Ball, and tonight with her parents. They were taking a quick stolen moment together before she would usher him to the informal sitting area the Pavlova family regularly used after dinner parties with close friends, or family.

Harry let out a deep breath but didn't respond right away. Meeting the powerful family in person he had been warned about was not as he expected it to be.

"It wasn't that bad, right?" Natalia asked hoping it would elicit a response this time, beyond the deep breathing the last comment had.

Harry scrunched his face together as he answered her. "I think so; I've never done anything like this. I was pretty quiet and your family appeared to have done what they could to not focus solely on me, or even what is or isn't going on between us." He shrugged, "It's kind of hard to say, but I think so."

Natalia gave him a reassuring smile and hugged herself to his right arm. Her confident demeanour faltered noticeably. "Is something wrong?" Harry asked.

"I've read the file on my family and there is something you should know… the file has one thing backwards… It's a _very_ closely kept secret. Everyone is led to believe my father is the one that is the domineering patriarch. He'll come across as strong, stern and as the undisputed leader of the family. My mother is seen as the soft family matriarch, the socialite, a bit airheaded and fully submissive to her husband. While it's not the total opposite, it is virtually the opposite. I know-" She exhaled deeply and snuggled up as best she could to the young man standing beside her, "I know we aren't on the… best of terms. I could have been more honest and I _do_ want this to work. So, I'm trying to help still, just as I told you in the carriage." Her demure posture and shining eyes were almost too much for him to bear.

Before anything could happen, she spoke up. "We'd better get going. I was supposed to have taken you straight there and this is where things really will take off. Dinner was polite discussion, any kind of business is kept until after dinner. I won't be able to help; I have to play my part." She shot him a regretful look and Harry didn't bother responding. He followed her lead into the formal sitting area where he was relieved to find it was just the four of them. Her parents and the two of them. He was immensely grateful it did not include her older brothers and sister too.

Ivan and Sylvia, as Harry had been instructed to call the patriarch and lady of the family, were waiting for them already seated on a loveseat. Across from them, separated by a rich mahogany coffee table, were two chairs. Harry took Natalia to be seated in the one across from her mother and he took the one across from her father.

"I do hope you've enjoyed yourself so far tonight, Harry. Can I get you anything else?" Sylvia asked, indicating the array of drinks displayed before them.

"A butterbeer would be great." He responded, having seen one readily available on the table.

He took a seat and felt an air of awkwardness descend.

"We were _so_ surprised when we saw the paper on the 26th. Our _daughter_," Harry didn't like the way in which she said the word, somehow it came across as condescending, "on the front page dancing with yourself. It was so shocking and yet _so _wonderful to see our daughter does live up to her name." The casual whim in which she spoke negatively about Natalia stoked his ire.

"I've not seen so much owl post in my life. We had floo calls coming in all day asking about it. I had to scold her for not informing her parents for such an important event she failed to inform us that she was attending. I was almost an embarrassing _disaster_! Reporters, politicians, friends, and everyone else wanting to know just how we pulled off the coup. It put us in such a spot of trouble. It almost makes one think Natalia did it for schadenfreude." She spoke animatedly, her hands' motions in exaggerated circles as she explained all the types of people that had contacted them and her voice inflected all over the place matching her gestures.

"Yes, it was quite the shock our daughter finally found a way to make those _ridiculous_ ballet lessons worthwhile." Natalia's father added gruffly. "Attending the Delacour Ball with my daughter was a nice gesture. "

He put on a false bright small before responding. "She caught my eye with how wonderful she danced and specifically just how dedicated she was to her craft. It was obvious and the primary thing that attracted me to her in the first place. Without seeing her practice, I doubt I would have wanted to escort her." Harry tried to calm himself from getting worked up. He was making mistakes already. They were probably trying to prod him and get him to react emotionally. In fact, this could have been designed to push him towards their daughter further.

"She certainly is rather dedicated in that part of her life." Sylvia returned his smile, showing approval for his words. It didn't match the scowl on her husband's face though.

"I was wondering just how close you are to the Delacour family. We know of course of the closeness between your two families but it had appeared you had wisened up to their fall from grace, marrying a _veela_ of all things." He growled the last bit out, his voice rumbled low before it with a dour look on his face.

"I've recently been reacquainted and spent a day with their family. They seemed rather pleased to be back in contact with the Potter family. My grandparents were close to Antoine Delacour."

"I'll bet they were pleased…" Harry heard Ivan grumble, more than likely not meaning for it to be loud enough for Harry to overhear.

"Is there an issue with veela?" Harry bit out in retort, knowing full well Natalia already disliked Fleur for her heritage and seeing it was a familial trait.

"An issue? The women who seduce any powerful man they can get their filthy beaks on! The _beasts_ that try to steal all of the top male partners! Tell me, did that Delacour veela even _look _at you before you showed yourself as a rising star? Did she try and make physical advances and push you away from our beloved Natalia? Did they not tell you of the _real_ veela history? The one they try and hide away and hope we will all forget. We know you were not raised in a magical world and it's best you get a _real_ history lesson, not what Hogwarts teaches." Ivan was a stable concoction of lividity and control. His face had taken on a red hue, and he was sitting forward and attempting to crush the scotch filled tumbler with his bare hand if the white knuckles were anything to go by.

Harry glanced over at Natalia. She was hiding a scowl behind her cup while she took a deliberately slow drink. He was going to get no support from her in front of her parents, it seemed. "I did not grow up in the magical world so whenever I can get another perspective and broaden my horizons, I take the opportunity. I'd be thrilled to hear about what you are referencing.

Ivan took a moment and calmed himself down, but a glance at his wife and he let her take the lead.

"Veela are found today in France and Bulgaria. At the turn of the century, they were also a population in Russia, where our family hails from. The Russian Empire's downfall was due to the _veela._" She spat the word out like her mouth was on fire just for forming the syllables of the treacherous word.

"They poisoned the ruling class from within. Within two generations of their emigration, from Bulgaria to Russia, the Tsar had fallen and magical were driven out by the communists. It wasn't until Grindelwald that the exiled Russian magical were able to slowly begin to regain their former stations. Russia became _desperate_ when their muggle forces were being crushed by the Germans. The Blitzkrieg was unstoppable with Grindelwald's forces. After desecrating everything magic for decades, they _begged_ for us to come back like we always knew they would."

There was something there that Harry was missing. He didn't know what it was but there was something that was just off the edge he couldn't place. He listed with rapt attention as Sylvia waxed on further about a topic he should have known so much more about. He was struck speechless while wondering why the twentieth-century magical history wasn't taught at Hogwarts.

"They tried to _bribe_ us back into saving their sorry necks. All of the nobility that was hunted like criminals. They stole our wealth, our homes and then they begged us a few decades later. Nobody heard their pleas and their cries fell on deaf ears. Not until they bled their sons dry, did we deign to even negotiate. All of us, The Russian Oligarchs, that had protected and guided the country faithfully for _centuries_, were not sought after again. They'd butchered families in the dead of night. When we negotiated back our rightful place, it was for far more than just what we had lost."

Sylvia paused as she took a quick break to parch her dry throat. She allowed the tension to build, and to let Harry's mind process the information. When she had wet her dry throat, she continued.

"The families that condemned us for aiding Grindelwald never pay attention to the reason _why_ we fought for him in the first place. All of us old families, that were driven out when the Tsar was overthrown, were aiding the German Grindelwald so we _could_ return home in the first place! We are ridiculed for being a turncoat, while all we wanted was to reclaim our heritage. The war began to turn _because_ all of us defected. We cut a deal and were allowed to be Russian magicals again, without fear of reprisals on our lives.

"The greatest weakness of the Axis war machine was the two-front war. The _only_ reason there was one was because we demanded it in the first place! They needed our finances to get out of their depression, they needed our economic brilliance and our political expertise. While we readied our armies to retake our homeland, the rest of the world was in economic turmoil, the Great Depression. Their economic hardships sapped their resolve to fight before they could not stand up to the Blitzkrieg.

"When the crucial point came, we threw back the foreign invaders in Stalingrad. We assisted the muggle war machine and financed their counter-attack. When it was all said and done, the war was decided by our assistance. Dumbledore had the _gall_ to degrade us, to blemish our bloodshed and lineage. The man sits in his ivory tower and ensures our ilk are degraded for our sacrifice. All so he can retain his power. The man sat in his protected castle and only came out to defeat a broken man with a routed army. He got all the acclaim and then tried to make himself something he's not. When it failed, he became what you see him as to this day, the veneer of an eccentric teacher hiding immense magical power and potent political acumen."

Harry took the pause to pose a question of his own. He wanted to hear more about their viewpoint. Exiled Russian oligarchs return to the motherland to vanquish a foe they had been fighting for. Quite the take, instead of dishonourable turncoats and bandwagon jumpers.

"Can you elaborate on Dumbledore? What do you mean by your 'veneer' comment?"

"I'll take this one dear." Harry turned his attention to the man who'd let his wife dictate the conversation thus far. The man had a nasty gleam in his eye and looked thoroughly pleased to get onto this topic.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Time has gotten away from us, it would be best to move onto the final topic," Ivan stated shifting their long conversation on politics, governance and worldview into a new direction. "We were rather blindsided by your association with our daughter," he raised his hand to placate any notion of response at this time, "and that is not to say we are anything but pleased with her. However," the man's face gained a hard edge to it, "Pavlova's do not date. If you wish to pursue my daughter, you will court her."

With a nod to his wife, she withdrew some paperwork and placed it on the table in front of him.

"This is a contract outlining the terms and acceptable behaviours for a courtship. There is no need to sign it now. We will allow the association between the two of you to continue but it will need to be signed _soon_ or your relations will come to an end." By the look of the man, not to mention his forceful tone, there was no brokering of arguments to be had at all.

With his peace said, the man stood, signalling the end of the conversation, and helped his wife out of her seated position. He exchanged parting words with Harry and asked his daughter to show him back to the floo exit.

The two made their way back through the incredibly impressive home; it was a short jaunt.

"I'm sorry Harry. I had wished to aid you but I have to be _very_ careful here. There is little tolerance for my dream to be a ballerina... Until our involvement came to light, I was almost an outcast here. In front of my family, I'll wear this mask but I'd like to meet and discuss how things went and anything I can to help. Do you have time tomorrow?" She asked with a hopeful look, the more confident aspect of her personality come back.

"No, I'm meeting with some friends of my parents and then the Weasley family had invited me over." He was interested to know what she planned to discuss with him, about this evening. He'd thought it had gone rather well, all things considered. The family was different than the Weasley and Delacour's. The sense of aristocracy and wealth abounded around him. He could easily see them getting along with the haughty purebloods he had seen, though they hid any cruelty well.

"Are you really going to bring the _veela_ along? You'll spend the day with Fleur?" Her tone, and remark, left little to the imagination, the disdain and contempt she felt for the idea. She'd given him a sour look when he'd accepted Fleur's offer of wanting to join him that day. She thought the reasoning was beyond flimsy; it was just a poorly disguised attempt to ingratiate herself to him.

Harry sighed, he knew she would hate it. Natalia and Fleur got along like oil and water, but he had enjoyed his time with Fleur's family, and he'd have someone in his corner if things got ugly with the Weasleys, he wasn't worried about Padfoot and Moony.

She gave him a quick peck goodnight and walked away from him. Just before he stepped into the floo, he looked back at her. "I'm not free tomorrow but it's not _that_ late yet. Would you be able to come out now for the talk you wanted to have tomorrow?"

Natalia bit her lip and looked over both shoulders. She quickly pulled out her wand and summoned warmer clothing off the wall. She approached him and took his arm.

"Where did you want to go?" He asked.

"Same place we normally go to? I like to think of it as our spot, a place for the two of us to get away from everything." She smiled at him after responding, the happy innocent young lady look that clung to her every time she was genuinely happy.

It didn't take long to floo and then apparate to their park location. They began walking and Harry started the conversation, while they held hands. "So were you raised with a political education like that?"

"Yes, we were all tutored and taught things like history, politics, acting, etiquette, argumentation and lots more. Ever since I was five there were extra lessons, many from my older siblings, they didn't need a special tutor for their _second_ daughter." The way she stressed the word led him to believe her older sister had warranted the hiring of specialized tutors.

Not wanting to touch that topic, Harry continued toward his original intention. "Is that really how Dumbledore is seen or does your family really despise him?"

"It's kind of hard to say really." Her answer had an air of uncertainty to it. "I was raised with that belief and understanding. Dumbledore sat in his ivory tower and waited until the end of the war to use his prodigal skills to fight a man who knew his end was near. He then turned it into unprecedented political power ascending to the top political positions at the ICW, Wizengamot and having control of Hogwarts. The trifecta makes him nigh unassailably and he's cultivated an eccentric persona to distract from his magical and political power. He claims to be progressive to maintain his public image while he is actually for the status quo and works to bolster his own image and legacy. During the civil war, against Lord Voldemort, the true political progressives were almost wiped out and the balance of power was solely between two factions with the same overall goal: the aristocracy ruling. Their dissension is on how to treat the commoners. One wishes benevolence and the other varying degrees from extermination to exploitation." Her monotone answer made it obvious she'd said that more than once before. "Pretty well a summary of what I was taught and forced to regurgitate."

They took a few more steps before Harry responded. "It's kind of hard for me to see that. He's always been that old wise grandfather type who enjoys the odd joke. A political mastermind who controls from the shadows is just hard to conceptualize with how I've seen him, not that I doubt it, given how manipulative and controlling over my life he has been."

"There are a couple of things I should mention. First, there is something I doubt you're aware of with a courting contract. It is pretty much seen as an engagement. You'd need a _very_ good reason to end it in any other way than engagement and marriage otherwise it is seen as incredibly offensive. You'd be publicly insulting my family and relations between our families would end for generations. Those kinds of insults are not forgotten."

Harry's deadpanned expression wasn't something normally seen when it was just the two of them. His look mirrored his inner turmoil. Here was Natalia telling him things she didn't have to, all to assist him. The same debilitating thought returned. Was she playing the part to seduce him or was this all real? He didn't think he could hold it against her for using information she had on him to make their connection work better at the start.

"Thanks, was there something else too?"

She let go of his hand and pulled herself close to him. She wrapped her arm around his and guided them to sit at a park bench. "Yes, my family is now pressuring me to get you into the courtship contract and have told me to do it by any means necessary." Her sardonic delivery was not lost on him.

"They have modified a clause in the agreement. Normally a girl of my stature would be required to be pure through the entire courtship phase." Her cheeks were beyond a light blush. "Normally a non-virgin would be _damaged goods_ but to gain you as a son-in-law, they are willing to chance it. In fact, I bet my mother is hoping I'm getting into your bed tonight." The waspish way she spoke compiled with her deep red cheeks gave her something close to a feral look, something Harry had not seen.

Harry didn't make a move to physically comfort her. He wasn't sure how that would be taken; he didn't want to risk making her angrier. "And that's quite upsetting?" He immediately felt foolish for saying that but he didn't want things to drag on.

"Upsetting?" She asked acidly. "Why would it be?" Her voice dripped with sarcastic venom as she elaborated. "I'd finally have _purpose! _Seduce the Boy-Who-Lived and bear all his little babies. Push the political and business interests of the Pavlova family into a whole new front that has been untouchable for them for all their past generations. I'd finally be worth something to them, why wouldn't I want to give up my ambitions to whore myself out for their political and financial gain?" She'd worked up quite a bit of steam and let out some with her acerbic comments.

"Oh, is this it then?" Harry asked in a small voice, totally unconfident.

Her head whipped around and her eyes caught his. "What?" She half-shouted. "No! I just _loathe_ what my parents want me to do!" She turned and wrapped him in a strong hug. "I'm with you because _I_ want to be." She stared into his eyes and willed her sincerity to bore through his eyes and sink into his head.

Her voice was soft when she continued, "It just hurts. I know they would never have done this to my siblings. It's because I don't care about their goals. I just love to dance and be myself. And now, I love being with you." She'd dropped her head when she admitted how deeply the emotional pain went. Her eyes had leaked moisture down her face. She brought her chin back up and brought her soft, wet, and salty lips to his. The kiss was not chaste and it lingered longer than she'd anticipated. Harry snaked his arms around her. When it ended, she snuggled into him as close as she could. A comfortable silence descended upon them while they basked in each other's presence.

After some time, Natalia broke the quiet. "Do you really have to spend time with Fleur tomorrow? Aren't I enough?" She challenged.

Harry laughed, it was not the response she expected. "The Delacour's have been friends with my family and they can tell me about them." He replied neutrally. "Fleur is around my age and it is expected I'd get to know her as a friend. It's not like we are doing anything close to romantic. She's visiting a family I've been close to since Hogwarts. They live very simply and with six boys and one girl they have more than a housefull. Just imagine all those kids and only one _shared_ bathroom!"

She shuddered involuntarily. She could imagine just how horrible that poor girl's life was! She'd always had her own personal luxurious bathroom.

"Imagine if I brought you along, a bit of a culture shock?" He asked mischievously.

"I'd imagine it would be," she carefully replied unsure of where he was going with this.

"Fleur says she wants to be my friend. You've seen her, all prim and proper." The lopsided grin was now fully plastered to his face, "I'm taking her to a place where the brothers enjoy throwing garden gnomes, smashing table together, and pranks. A place where manners are a suggestion and not a necessity. I'm putting her in the antithesis of her normal environment at a time where I haven't seen them in months and things have been strained. It should be entertaining." He chuckled wondering just how tomorrow was going to go.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing that may bear mentioning is the unreliability of the characters. Characters have biases and are not always reliable in their opinions. How they are at the start of the story isn't necessarily how they will remain throughout. People are complicated, circumstances and character can change. Further, just because Harry read something in a book, was told something by a character, or read a passage from Salazar's memoir does not mean the information is inerrant, infallible or he is not being purposefully mislead.
> 
> I am writing as a hobby and I've learned just how much work it is to continue to plug away at the story week after week. Realizing the fic is 14 chapters in, 10kish words per chapter, and how much further it still has to go feels somewhat daunting. I've paid attention, in my own fanfic reading, to the publish and completion dates on some fics and it's impressive some authors have spent 10 years working to complete a 700k fic. Some are much faster but that's a lot of dedication. Easy to see but to comprehend the weekly work necessary to continue forward is something else. Doing it myself I have a far greater appreciation for other authors skill and dedication.
> 
> Some reviews on Harry's lack of having people to rely on:
> 
> Be patient with the kid. He's trying to figure this whole life thing out.
> 
> As to his magical abilities? He knocked the OWLs out of the park but the OWLs are little league not big league. They are for fifteen year olds, and he only wrote a couple of them, not all of them. It's impressive he's a standout at 14 for 15 year old exams but it's like saying your really tall for a 12 year old, even amongst 13yr olds too! Great but there's a couple more years of growth ahead of you before you can be considered tall in the general population. Just remember perspective and journalism's need for sensationalism.
> 
> Been a bit slow to update, I know. This chapter was done about 10 days ago just life got in the way of getting it from daft to here. Already got 1/3 written on the next one. I'll keep working on it as I can. Oh, and I actually didn't see Meet The Fockers, just Meet The Parents.
> 
> Thanks to Haphne24 for all the great beta work, always appreciated!
> 
> Thanks again for reading, favs, follows, reviews, and PMs.


	15. Dinner for Schmucks

He'd only just arrived, and only had enough time for a cursory look, but the place felt wrong. He heard footsteps approaching the room and had his wand drawn, a quick series of flicks had him disillusioned, silenced and masked for scent. He waited for the footsteps to enter the room and put himself in the corner, so he could have a full view of the person entering and be at their back when they moved into the room.

A single man entered, scruffy hair down to his neck, a few days growth of facial hair smattering his neck and face. The man was in dark robes that looked older but were in good condition still. The man did not have his wand drawn yet he still unnerved Harry upon entering.

"Harry...is that you?" The voice was desperate with a hinge of excitement.

Harry waited until he passed him by. There was no mistaking whom it was that entered; it was Sirius Black. Knowing the man is an unrepentant prankster, Harry decided to take advantage of the situation.

Sirius was in the middle of the room where Harry had the perfect position to execute an ambush. Harry's wand was already drawn and pointed at the man. He crept forward to ensure the distance between them was point-blank. A silent petrification spell later and Sirius was frozen without having sensed Harry's presence in the room.

Harry cast a voice modification charm at his throat and then spoke. "You should be careful. There are many dangerous things in the dark and decrepit places such as this." The voice modulation had the desired effect. A low menacing growl took the place of regular voice.

Harry circled the frozen-in-place man. He placed an obscuration charm of his face and dropped the disillusionment before he plucked the man's wand from his grasp. "Now what shall I do to such a notorious mass murderer? Would you like a visit with your cousin Narcissa by chance?" Harry enjoyed the widening of Sirius' eyes as he comprehended the drawled-out sentence.

"You know, those Malfoys, they are such good friends of our dear minister. Lucius would be overjoyed if I gave you to him!" Harry watched with glee as the blood drained from Sirius' face.

"After all, we can't have a degenerate mutt like Snuffles roaming around free, now can we?" With supreme effort, he barely managed to contain his laughter. He waited for the animagus to catch the full meaning of his words. When he did, Harry dropped all his charms and broke out in laughter having successfully pranked the marauder.

After getting his laughter out, he let the bound man move again. "Laugh it up. You get this one free because I'm so glad to see you!" The man pouted outrageously and then flashed him a grin.

"I was so worried, nobody knew where you were! Are you okay?" The words tumbled out of his mouth. He realized there was something more important to discuss than the perfectly executed prank.

"I'm actually doing really well, probably the happiest I've ever been." Harry smiled at him, failing to recognize how the other man might take it as a slight, or barbed remark.

Sirius winced. He'd desperately wanted to provide a proper home for him at the end of his third year, just as Charlus Potter and Aunt Dorea had for him when he ran away from home. Instead, he'd made another blatant error of judgment. Just as he did by chasing Pettigrew, he'd put his safety and his happiness ahead of his godson. He'd gone off to a tropical island to enjoy being free again. He'd entrusted others to continue to look after his godson.

"That's great. I trust spending evenings with women like Natalia Pavlova and Fleur Delacour on your arm would make things pretty good." He waggled his eyebrows with insinuation. "I'd have given up my right paw to have either of them on my arm at your age. I mean, two older drop-dead gorgeous women are all over you, one of them a Merlin-forsaken veela, and you're not even 16 yet!" Sirius exclaimed.

"You do us all so proud!" He wiped a fake tear out of his eye in exaggeration of his awe.

Harry scoffed, "Well, I'm not dating either of them," he retorted back, "and I went with Natalia to both of them. She let me open the Delacour Ball with Fleur as she did not have a date for the evening. Most of the press coverage seemed to be unclear as to who my date actually was. In France, they thought it was Fleur. In England, they noted I was dancing with a Pavlova but was 'awfully chummy' with the Delacour heiress and her family." He shrugged. "I guess that's why Lacroix, Patrice, and Ivan all suggested I get an agent."

Sirius gawked at the young man. "What?" His jaw had not found a way to shut yet.

Harry ignored the comment; he didn't feel like getting into a discussion on that with Sirius. He had his own agenda for being here. Critique of his recent actions and decisions was at the bottom of the list. Frankly, he didn't care what was on their agenda for this morning.

"Are you alone here, or are there others here?" Harry asked.

Sirius debated asking more about the previous comment but decided to hold off for now. Harry had shown a strong independence streak and he didn't want to upset him especially not even before he got out of the floo entry room.

He responded to Harry's question, "Just Moony and me."

Harry nodded and followed Sirius through the home, which was as dark, depressing and dreary as the entry, if not worse. They made their way into the library where Remus Lupin was sitting at a small round table set for three.

He stood when he saw Harry enter the room. "Harry! It's so good to see you. We were all so worried when not even Dumbledore knew where you were." His voice actually reflected his words, though Harry doubted their authenticity to a degree.

"Did you not read the interview in the paper?" He didn't see comprehension on the werewolf's face so he elaborated quickly, "The interview where it was explained, very clearly, that I withdrew from Hogwarts and, as an emancipated minor, I struck out on my own for the duration of the tournament." He had raised his eyebrow, sceptically, while speaking. He found it rather unbelievable that they wouldn't have read the international headline-making news that was plastered, literally, everywhere in the magical world.

Remus grimaced slightly, "I did, but until the First Task, nobody had heard from you. Dumbledore hadn't informed us of your withdrawal. I'm glad our fears were not actualized." A strained smile found his face.

"How could we have missed all those headlines with all those pretty girls on your arms! Eh Moony?" Sirius said as he elbowed Lupin in the ribs and laughed in mirth when the elbow hit his unprotected ribcage.

Even Harry smiled at the little altercation. Remus wasn't one to let a cheap shot like that go and retaliated with his wand. He shot a silent spell to Sirius's feet and used the palm of his hand to push his best friend off balance. Sirius' feet stuck and he went arse over tea kettle.

Any tension left unresolved, between the three, ended with Remus and Harry doubling over in laughter when Sirius fell into the sticking charm and was stuck in an unnatural position on the floor. It was as if he was playing a solo game of twister where he had horrid luck for body positions. Needless to say, the two couldn't contain their mirth.

"Laugh it up Moony. You've just broken our truce and there will be revenge! Sweet, glorious, unholy revenge!" Sirius declared brazenly, or well as well as he could from the ridiculous position he was stuck in. He'd meant to inspire terror, but he'd made them laugh harder. He was completely at their mercy, unable to grab his wand.

"Free me!" Sirius pouted. Remus took pity on the man and released him, but only after getting confirmation, they were resuming temporary truce on their prank war.

"Well, Harry, we're both glad you came. We just wanted to see you, talk to you, or whatever." Sirius didn't really have a great way with words for all this godfathering he was hoping to do.

"I'm guessing you guys talked to Dumbledore and know what he knows?" Harry asked while joining them, he sat at the table with them.

"Hard to say. We know what Dumbledore has told us but not how much of what he knows. The man plays his cards close to his chest." Remus responded.

"Okay, then what do you want to know?" Harry had assumed there would be a bit of an interrogation session today, both here and upcoming at the Burrow.

Remus looked to Sirius but got a signal to start. "Well, let's start at the beginning. Why did you leave Hogwarts?" He asked with no accusation in his tone; he seemed genuinely curious. Sirius was antsy in his chair watching his godson.

Harry ran his hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. He rubbed it as he debated exactly how to answer the question. The silence between them stretched. "It's kind of hard to explain. It's a real combination of things and it just kind of got to the point where I'd had enough." He gave a half-hearted shrug and a frown etched his face.

Neither man was pleased with the answer and Sirius probed for more. "What kind of things combined together?" There was a longing in his tone to understand the boy who should have been raised as his surrogate son, or a favourite uncle at the very least.

Harry looked between them and mentally considered telling them the bare truth or just a version of it. He went for the cold hard truth. "You sure you _really_ want to know? You probably won't like what I have to say, it's scathing."

"We do, no matter how scathing it is," Remus replied, without missing a beat. Sirius had started to say something at the same time but deferred to the man who had spent more time with Harry.

"Well, I've been in a deadly scenario every single year since I started at Hogwarts. Through it all, Hermione and Ron were there for me. Ron was jealous and his actions ended our close friendship. Hermione refused to get in the middle and, in doing so, abandoned me. I'm not sure she meant it like that but she was the only person who I expected would _never_ betray me like that. Ron's always been a bit jealous and he has an inferiority complex too. The school populace turned nasty, the teachers didn't step in to help at all…" He trailed as he could tell Sirius wanted to jump in and ask or say something.

"What about us? When I heard about the tournament from Dumbledore, I immediately made my way back to England. Moony would have too." Sirius said with emotion.

Harry gave them a bland look. Giving his unfiltered thought on that would not be kind, but hiding it wouldn't fix anything. If it ruined things, he could live with it. "Honestly, I didn't trust it would be enough." He could see the shock on both their faces but ploughed on. "Moony didn't send me a single letter the _entire_ time since I saw him last. And what good would a man with a death warrant do to help? I needed _real help_. I saw what happened with the Death Eaters this summer. I saw Voldemort in my dreams and _nobody_ did anything but pat me on my head and tell me to be a good dog." He thought he'd dealt with his anger. He could feel the latent fury building within him and it was evident, to both older men, in his speech.

"I've faced Voldemort multiple times! I've killed a bloody basilisk, a werewolf, tons of dementors, crazy professors, acromantula, and death eaters. Yet, I'm kept where I was _hated_ and never taught how to properly defend myself." Harry didn't come here to rant and rave at them. He needed to get his emotions back under control. He took a deep breath and tried to soothe away his anger. "I just decided if nobody was going to step up, I'd have to figure it out myself. The results have been great so far. I understand the wizarding world much better and am _fully_ independent to do what _I _think is best."

Harry stopped there. He'd unloaded enough and it was time to let them respond.

Both men looked incredibly pensive. Harry thought they'd be impulsive and try and absolve some of the accusations. They hadn't, not at all, as of yet.

Remus spoke first. His eyes had trouble meeting Harry's but he made sure they did, even if his entire posture was downcast, with his face drooping. "Sorry. I'm sorry, Harry… I left the wizarding world when news broke. I was so ashamed I'd forgotten to take a potion. A small mistake that almost killed students, that let Pettigrew escape, that almost had Sirius and you _kissed_. I thought... I thought you'd want nothing to do with me." The defeatism pissed Harry off and that leaked onto his face while Remus was speaking.

"I was wrong. Thinking back now, I know you would have preferred me to contact you. Just like you let me off the hook when I was your teacher. I've done this twice. However, I won't do it again." He punctuated the final six words.

Harry didn't respond. He saw Sirius was ready to speak.

"You really don't trust me?" Sirius asked completely downtrodden.

It's a hard thing to speak the truth but Harry didn't lack for courage and he wouldn't pull his punches now. "You chased Pettigrew and left me with Hagrid. Then, you broke out of prison, not to reconnect with me, but to kill Pettigrew. I know you offered me a place to live, but, it was _after_ you thought you had revenge on the rat. And since then? A few letters. I told you what happened in my life and how much I _loathed_ where I lived. I told you about my dreams and what good did it do? Being thrown into the tournament with no tangible support was the result. What would you have done? Sent letter suggestions about how to handle a dragon? Write a letter on how to behave at the ball? You're not here and I'm not your priority. I'm nobody's priority. What's best for Harry doesn't top anyone's lists!" The frustrations he had been holding back were all rising to the surface now and there was nothing lethargic about it. His voice was heated, his skin flushed and he was flustered. "I'm in a better place now. I'm actually learning magic at a fantastic rate. I'm branching out beyond only having two friends. I'm independent, doing whatever _I_ think is best, and I'm finally happy now that I have some control!"

A melancholic tension poisoned the air between them. Harry wanted to get one thing in first before they responded though. "Look, if I wanted nothing to do with either of you, I wouldn't have come. You both know I can hide myself away from the world without issue. I came because I think we can work at it. Sometimes it takes pointing out the issues to overcome them. What do you think?"

"You've matured a lot, Harry. I've already screwed up, badly, twice, and words are wind. I will do what I can to show you I really mean to not make it a third time." Moony spoke solemnly first in reply.

Harry gave him a hard look and simply nodded, there wasn't a need to say anything. He looked expectantly to Sirius.

The man had unshed tears in his eyes, a foreign look of seriousness on his face, it was plain weird to see. "I should have been your godfather your whole life. I've been in prison instead. I thought… well, I didn't think you really needed me. I left to stay safe and rehabilitate myself. I was eating scraps and hunting rats to eat. I was tortured by dementors for over a decade and I was a mess. I thought healing would be the best way to help you in the future." He paused and ensured he had direct eye contact with Harry. "You're right, I didn't put you before my need for revenge and I'm sorry for that. It won't happen again." The man was radiating with the strength of his revolve and Harry could sense it, yet, until the chips were down he wouldn't know if it was true.

Harry decided a shift in the mood would be a good chance. "Well, I didn't come here to be all depressed or anything. So, where exactly are we? I got the address but this place is nasty with a capital N."

"This is my house, the Black Family's home, where I grew up. Didn't my mum do such a great job decorating? You can really feel the doom and gloom!" Sirius gestured to the horrid paint job and dark corners of the room.

Harry laughed at his godfather's antics. It was nice to spend time with people where he did not have to be on alert the entire time.

"You need to be careful here. We've just started and we've already found a number of deadly magical items here. Don't touch anything you're unsure of and don't wander." He told Harry seriously.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm here to chat, not touch random objects in a super creepy house." He replied drolly. "Do you mind if I ask you more about your family, Sirius?" He'd known it was a sore subject since his third year but as a Black, he wanted to know more.

Sirius scowled and saw the look his godson was giving him. "What do you want to ask about?" He asked cautiously.

"Well, I'm apparently in position to take on the role of regency and I wondered why it fell to me. As I understand, there are no eligible heirs. Do you know why?"

Both men had slackened jaws when Harry dropped the tidbit about being eligible to be the regent for the Black family.

"Grandfather did that?" Sirius whispered to himself, just loud enough for the other two to hear.

"Did what?" Remus asked in a calm reassuring voice.

The dark shoulder-length haired man was lost within himself. He was too spaced out to hear the question. His eyes snapped back to Harry, "Was this grandfather's a message? I thought he'd washed himself of the family… he was so disappointed." His eyes were on Harry but he spoke to himself, voicing his thoughts out loud with a faraway look.

Harry waited for him to go on but he did not. Remus seemed to be comfortable waiting but Harry was not. He had to meet up with Fleur and make it to the Burrow for lunch.

"Sirius," Harry exclaimed loudly getting the man to focus back on him, "why are you not the heir? Why am I the regent? I wanted to understand more about the Black family before I considered taking up the role. I am a legal adult now and am able to legally." His crisp voice brought the man out of his reminiscing. Moony was happy to watch and see how his best friend answered.

"I was never eligible to be the heir. It's why my family loathed me, a firstborn male unable to carry on the family. They took out their failure on me and I resented them for it. It's why your father was my best friend growing up. Aunt Dorea was always so kind."

Harry sighed, this was like pulling teeth with pliers. "And you were never eligible to be the heir because?" He let his voice drift off with the obvious conclusion being Padfoot was supposed to continue the sentence.

"Because I shoot blanks. My whole generation had reproductive issues," he stated blandly, though it wasn't hard to see the man had regrets about it.

"I knew your swimmers were no good but your whole generation?" Remus asked with a raised eyebrow, the comment had piqued his interest.

Sirius leaned back in his chair and slumped into the dusty cushioning. "Bella was barren; she could never have children. Andi was supposedly as well but she had Dora…." The man sported a massive grin when he thought of that. "She slept with Teddy Tonks so she didn't have to get her hands dirty in herbology, or that was what she claimed at the time. She was always a bit too _friendly_ knowing what awaited her after graduation." Harry shot a glare at him, he did not want to have to keep asking to be told the whole story. "Then you have myself and Regulus, both impotent and unable to father children. All that inbreeding caught up, they tried to keep our bloodline gifts strong, and within the family, but all they got was the end of the mainline of the Black family. Arcturus knew about the danger. It's why he insisted his sister married into a family that hadn't mixed with ours for centuries. His own child married his cousin, even though he tried to forbade it. Good ol' mum wanted to be the Lady Black and got herself pregnant out of wedlock. Grandfather could either shame his own family or allow the match."

"I never knew about that, let alone your brother and cousins," Remus told him. "It does kind of explain the reputation of your cousins. Is it why you never got serious with anyone?"

Harry groaned when he saw the grim-faced man smirk. "Really, Moony? I was always serious, for I am Sirius Black!" He had his hands on his hips and his chest thrust forward, even though it was awkward given he was still seated. "The eternal bachelor, the Gryffindor Ladykiller!" He laughed at his own self-proclaimed titles. "Just another Black too inbred to produce progeny." The humour died as he ended, it turned melancholic for the final bit. "I could not produce children and could never have a family, it drove our family apart and made Grandfather set up this plan. For Harry to be the Regent and, if he so chose, to let him bear the next heir naming him a Black from birth, the Black lineage would extend through his sister's line."

Harry was stunned. An entire generation almost incapable of having children. The entire male line dying out from a family with such a strong history. It was surprising and he didn't know if he should or how to empathize. "I'm sorry." It was all he could come up with, Sirius hadn't asked for it.

"Did you tell anyone?" The ashen-faced Remus Lupin choked out.

Sirius scoffed. "James knew. His mother knew and had probably told him. Aside from them, it was a family secret. Couldn't let something as inconvenient as that get out and ruin the family name," he said with faux haughty arrogance.

Remus seemed to want to avoid keeping the conversation heading in the direction and decided to turn it in a new direction. "So because the main line was not going to continue the Black family through James?"

Sirius stared at him blankly for a moment. Then he frowned, "Possibly? Honestly, I've no idea. I was the black sheep, the Gryffindor gaffe. If I had to guess, it would likely have been decided after Prongs and Lils had more kids, see how they turned out."

"So to find out more, I need to visit Gringotts and see if there was anything left? I had been meaning to go, just things have been so busy." Harry added to his godfather's guess.

Both men gave him the kind of look that said 'we don't know but your idea sounds like a good one' and left it at that.

For being mostly familiar with each other, things were still awkward. Their conversation had lapsed and none of them had continued to a new topic naturally. The absence, lack of trust and this being their first meeting culminated in the weirdness between them. Neither man wanted to do anything that would upset the boy and Harry was still ill at ease with the two. Remus had the experience as a teacher for bridging these chams.

"Was there anything else you wanted to ask about or anything we could help with?" He had an involuntary grimace with how much he sounded like a teacher, he should be Harry's uncle figure.

Harry smiled, understanding what Remus was trying to do. "Yes, there is actually," the political discussion of the previous night on his mind, "what do you know about the Tragedy of the Commons?"

"Oh, Lily used to _always_ rant about that!" Padfoot exclaimed. "She hated it! Your mother was fierce when she got into one of these kinds of topics she got passionate about, and this was one of them." Remus gave him a questioning look which he did not notice. Harry caught it but was always interested in hearing more about his parents. "She always railed, on and on," he gesticulated dramatically as he spoke, "how unfair the muggle-borns had it. No representation in the government, not officially allowed to hold prominent ministry office nor start new businesses. She ranted and raved about it for years! This one time she even was in the common room and was spitting with fury to….?" He paused unable to recall the bloke's name. "Moony who was the guy I accidentally broke the nose of, when I was trying to knock Prong's snitch and wallopped the kid's nose instead? I think it was in 4th year?" He looked at his friend whose face was in his palm.

Slowly Moony extricated his face from his palm and looked at his idiotic brother. "It was Jenkins and that was 5th year, not 4th. And that's not wh-"

"Right! Jenkins!" He laughed loudly. "The git had it coming! I still say James put the snitch in the position so my swing would do exactly that! With the way he laughed his arse off at me, even in front of McGee of all people, he definitely set that up!" He got a faraway look in his eyes. "And what a marvellous prank it was, even if it was on his dear ol' Paddy." His eyes lost the glimmer and gave way to a forlorn expression. "Anyways, what was I going on about again?" His eyes twinkled in merriment once more, though a morose shadow still kept him firmly in its grasp.

"Tragedy of the Commons and mum in the common room." Harry helpfully offered up.

Remus facepalmed. He caught Harry's eye when he gave the helpful hint for Padfoot to continue, hence the facepalm.

"Right! Lily was going off and.." He looked quizzically at his friend. He knew something was off when Moony had his head dropped into his hands.

"Moony?" He asked hesitantly, he didn't want to know he did something to elicit that again, this was a hauntingly familiar situation.

"Yes?" Remus asked without looking up.

"Am I missing something here?" He questioned slowly.

Remus sighed and Harry snickered. "Yes."

Padfoot pouted.

"Tragedy of the Commons is _not_ referring to the commoner, the muggle-borns. It's an economic term."

"Ah," he replied sheepishly, still not comprehending.

"It's an issue we have in the magical world. Why are you interested in it?" Remus asked curiosity brimming, fourteen-year-olds are not normally interested in anything like this.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to divulge. Nobody really knew he had met with Natalia's family as of yet. "I was trying to find out more about magical governance and it was brought up to prove a point." He thought that was a good vague answer.

"Magical governance? I'm surprised you are interested in that." Remus responded honestly. "What brought that on?"

Harry shrugged. "I need to educate myself, especially now that I'm emancipated, and there is a lot that I don't know because I was raised in the muggle world. I've been trying to find out more about the Ministry, the Wizengamot, and the ICW."

"Wait. Don't move on, what is the Tragedy of the Commons?" Sirius asked.

Remus raised an eyebrow in a challenge at Harry, he wanted to see what Harry knew.

Harry turned his head towards Sirius. "Well, it's probably easiest to explain in an example, or that's how it was explained to me…" Seeing he had Sirius' attention, he continued. "Unicorns were how it was explained to me. They are a finite resource. They are virtually impossible to domesticate let alone breed. In captivity, they seem to wither and die off. Making it worse, they are long-lived and reproduce very slowly. Foals come along maybe twice a century. Yet, they are in high demand. They are so magical, they have extensive uses from potions to wand cores. There used to be quite a lot more unicorns in the world but they were hunted. They were captured to be used to make money. Countries, families, and clans stole them from each other and even had them killed off to prevent an enemy from having the resource. As a whole, their population was being pushed to extinction. So, the ICW heavily regulates their habitat and what they can be used for. Essentially, the commons is a public resource and the tragedy is the propensity for humans to overuse them until they are gone."

"A decent summary," Remus commented casually.

Sirius looked at Harry like he was an alien. "If you guys are going to go on about this, wake me up when it's done," he said and dramatically flopped his head down onto the table whacking his forehead against it repeatedly.

Harry laughed at his godfather's childish antics and then turned to focus on Remus, who he could have an intelligent adult conversation with.

"I was trying to learn about how the magical world is governed and got quite an interesting education, but I was hoping to get other viewpoints." He offered back to the grizzled man.

"And who gave you the education? Dumbledore?"

Harry smiled, "Nope, it was someone else."

Remus frowned wondering who else it could be. He knew Harry hadn't been in touch with the Weasley family and had few other friends at Hogwarts. He seemed chummy with his date Natalia and Fleur Delacour. He assumed it would have been one of them and would wager on it being the Delacour's.

"What can you tell me about the political climate when Voldemort was launching his war?"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"So, the first time I saw the house I thought it was amazing, awesome. A towering monstrosity held together only by magic. A household of mischievous chaos and loving affection. Their mother helped a bespectacled little boy at the transition and sent a Christmas present to a boy she only knew from that one instance and the letters her children sent home. Warm, loving, caring and she gives hugs that crush the air out of you. I may not call Ron my best friend anymore, but I really respect the family. If you don't want to join me, it really won't bother me."

Fleur frowned, not because of what the young man had said, but from the distance that was between them. She glomped onto his side against, pressing herself against him to maximize physical contact and told him what she felt. "Non, I wouldn't miss this. I get to spend the rest of the day with you, non? What more could one want? C'est magnifique," she gave him a dazzling smile and looked back towards their destination.

Harry's face reddened, even if he was getting used to being teased by the picturesque beauty hanging off his arm. He nodded and the two began the walk up to the Burrow together.

His time meeting with Sirius and Remus had been cathartic. He did not trust them implicitly, or anything of that nature, but their motivations for being around him were so much more concrete than most. A connection to his dead parents and a perceived obligation to them to help their only child. They had spectacularly sucked at it, but it didn't change the ease of which Harry understood their angle.

That is not to say it was exactly clear as a glacier-fed mountain stream. Remus seemed to have a lot of loyalty to the headmaster. Remus and Sirius had their uses and could be rather beneficial to keep around. They told him stories of his parents, they were both accomplished, to varying degrees, in their own right and would probably straightforwardly answer most things. Their association with him was obvious and it eased his mind to see they still accepted him, even with him keeping secrets from them and associating with Natalia.

Harry felt the alluring skin of the Delacour heiress as it rubbed up against his. He was in a plain dark grey short-sleeved shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans, both with comfort charms so the weather didn't bother him. She wore tight-fitting jeans that showed off her figure, a skin-tight undershirt, that did not show any cleavage, and a shawl that drew down from her shoulders to her mid-thigh. Her outfit was casual, enticing and somehow perfectly conservative. It went wonderfully with her long hair flowing down her back.

"Gabrielle was _so_ upset you didn't stay longer the other night. I can't even imagine how sad she will be that she missed you picking me up. She's going to pout and get this big blue eyes that you can't resist. Can't you just _picture _it?" Harry grimaced; he knew the _exact_ look she meant.

"You'll just have to be sure to visit soon." Fleur laughed at him. They both had been under the spell of Gabby's adorable pout, with her sky blue eyes and trembling lower lip.

"I'll visit you soon," he scowled at her, halfheartedly. He rather did like the little veela. He imagined it would be like having a little sister of his own.

"Don't think I don't know you're playing the cute little sister card to make sure I spend more time at the Delacour home with you." He gave her a shrewd look, he may still be young but he was learning.

She blushed. "Oui, that is part of it. I was worried you'd say non if I just asked. I would like you to date moi but I will not force that. The Potter and Delacour families should be close friends and I'd like that too, even if it's not my first preference."

Harry didn't reply to that. He needed to think first and not respond with emotions. With Fleur, he felt more prone to that. It was, possibly, a part of the veela allure? The books he read and all the conflicting resources didn't leave a clear indication one way or another. Books ranged from veela are half-demons that seduce men for their own flights of fancy before brutally murdering them and then repeating the plan. On the other end, some books said veela were normal women with magical physical traits. There appeared to be such a variety of information that distinguishing the misinformation from empirical evidence was impossible for him. He already had realized he would have to do his own study. He'd focused on his mental occlumency barriers and there was no effect on them. Given what Fleur had told him already, he assumed they were more emotionally driven. Him being more prone to responding with emotions _seemed_ to indicate that. Along with veela being able to sense emotion or the intention of those that are in physical proximity to them, there does appear to be some actual evidence he was onto something.

"I'm not dating anyone yet," she looked at him oddly.

"What about Natalia?" she asked. "I thought you were not dating her publicly and actually dating her in private. Don't you kiss each other, and maybe more?" Her eyes were narrowed and her face scrunched as she asked the question.

Harry knew they still had a couple of minutes before they got to the Burrow. They actually had time to talk. "I don't think that's an option. Besides, we've never talked about it. She kind of just started kissing me", Harry's voice went low and he mumbled the last part, "and it's not so bad kissing a pretty older girl."

Fleur gave him an absolutely predatory grin. "I'm older and don't you think I'm pretty too?"

Harry nodded instinctually and then realized just what she was getting at.

"Won't you kiss me moi?" She asked, far too sweetly.

Harry immediately backpedalled verbally. "I'm not the kind of guy to go around just kissing every pretty girl that will kiss me." Harry saw Fleur's monstrous pout and made a swift attack to defeat it. "You are _very_ pretty but I-"

Fleur silenced Harry with a delicate finger being pressed to his lips. She moved forward and embraced him in an engulfing hug. He could smell her scent and feel all of her developing curves. "I know 'arry; I was just teasing you," she whispered into his ear.

The two broke apart and resumed their arm-in-arm walk towards the Burrow.

The two didn't talk for half a minute but the quiet, between them, was nice. It allowed Harry to regain his equilibrium and realize she had been teasing and messing with him. She was dangerous.

"Are you really going to be okay with today? Things won't be anywhere near what you grew up with. There is only one bathroom and they have seven kids, though two don't live at home anymore." Harry watched her to see how she took what he was saying. He hadn't expected her to giggle.

"Oh 'arry, that's not a problem. Your observation is correct. I do enjoy the finer things in life that our wealth can provide. Us Delacour are not so shallow. Bonds of family and friendship are _far_ more important than a nice dress, a luxurious home, and all the gold in Gringotts. I'm working on our bond of friendship and meeting those close to you. That's more than enough to make this an excellent day."

Harry acknowledged her words, but let his focus turn inward. He'd met a few wizarding families now and they were so different. Natalia's family so proper and though there were obvious familial bonds they were somewhat cold. The Delacour family was so natural, relaxed, carefree and blessed. Everything there allowed him to bask in the gloriousness of being a part of a family. The Burrow had always felt busy, loving, overbearing, caring, and suffocating. There was an undercurrent of feeling cramped and longing for more. Arthur may have been the antithesis to overbearing and suffocating but his wife was the personification of it and he let her rule the roost. It was quite the oxymoron, like her hugs both loving affection and overpowered bonecrushers. He had no idea how today was going to go, but he felt Fleur's presence would magnify everything.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"So Harry you didn't tell us how you got so chummy with the Beauxbatons Champion. Aren't you two supposed to be competing?" Bill Weasley asked.

"It's not much of a secret really. My grandparents and her grandfather fought Grindelwald together and our families had maintained close ties. Patrice, Fleur's father, was friends with my father and our families used to vacation together every summer. I had no idea, but even Dumbledore confirmed our connection. Fleur approached me and invited me over and I've started to get to know them. It's been nice; I got a picture of my grandparents from him." Harry had that rare glow that came to him when he spoke of his family.

Harry was seated outside on the grass. Fred, George, Ginny, Charlie and Ron were braving the cold flying and playing two on two with Charlie smacking around a softened bludger at any of his siblings. It left Bill and Harry sitting watching. Fleur had offered to help Mrs Weasley in the kitchen, surprising everyone, and Harry hadn't felt like flying one of the old brooms. After flying a Firebolt, it just wasn't quite the same and they didn't have enough brooms with them for every single one of them. With the possibility of Fleur coming out, he didn't want to leave her on her own.

Things had gone quite well, though there was an obvious strain in their relations. Just like it was with Sirius and Remus, they didn't want to jeopardize making things worse with him and were being careful and cautious. However, there did seem to be tension between the female Weasleys and Fleur.

"Isn't it odd that she would suddenly get so close to you?" The question Bill asked had an air of incredulity to it though it was lacking in any sort of accusation.

"How so?"

Bill shifted from his leaned back position. He had been seated on his bum with both arms behind him leaning back to keep his neck from straining from looking up so high, following the quidditch match. He pushed himself to be upright and his eyes only flickered to the game here and there. "If they were such good family friends, why did you not know about them until a chance meeting at a tournament that had been dormant for years? Doesn't that seem fishy?"

It did, until Harry had reflected on it. It would be interesting to see what Bill made of what he'd put together himself in the chamber. "Bear with me, this is related. What do you know about my parents?"

Bill leaned closer. "Well, I know they were hunted and died protecting you. They are heroes. They were Head Boy and Girl, respectively and not much more I'm afraid. I'm too young to have known them personally."

Harry inclined his head. "Yes, and those are the facts everyone seems to have. I didn't know anything beyond that until I met Remus Lupin in my third year. Even he was reluctant to share personal stories with me even though he was like a brother to my father." He took a long, slow breath. _How much should he reveal?_

"I grew up with my mother's sister, her husband and their son who are muggles. They loathe everything to do with magic, including my parents. They tried to stop me from going to Hogwarts and my aunt has not told me a single thing about my mother that was not a lie or hateful comment. I didn't receive a single wizarding owl until I got my Hogwarts letter. Since that fateful day, I've only received correspondence from the Ministry, Ron, and Hermione." He drew out the break before the next sentence to ensure Bill had time to process what he'd been told.

"Now, you tell me, how suspicious is it that I never heard from the Delacour's until a chance presented itself this year?"

Bill's eyebrows were furrowed as close to each other as they could be. There was a tenseness to his body now that had been lacking all day. "That doesn't make any sense." He stopped himself just before he said another word and jerked his head up frowning deeply at himself. "You've figured it out already?"

"Yeah. All mail is blocked coming to me except those on an approved list. Not that it matters as the place I stay doesn't allow any mail except from my personal owl."

Bill whistled. "That's quite the warding scheme if it allows for that distinction. Any chance I could have a look at it?"

Harry grinned and shook his head. He laughed when Bill tried to pull off a pout but an older dude with a dragon earing and long hair just didn't compare to a pouting little veela

"Can you at least tell me how you get her so interested in you? I've seen the papers of you with that Pavlova girl and Fleur. Not even Charlie and I were that good at your age." He playfully pushed Harry's shoulder.

"There's not much to tell really. I met Natalia through my dance instructor and Fleur is a good friend."

"A _good friend_. Is that what they call it these days?" Bill teased.

"If I say she's a girl that is my friend, are you going to call her my girlfriend too?" Harry riposted back.

Bill gave him a wry grin and let the topic wane.

They both turned their attention back towards the gusty winter match. Harry's eyes tracked Charlie. The second eldest Weasley was supposed to have been one of the great Gryffindor seekers. He noticed that Charlie's broom did not have any form of footrests. His legs dangled and moved more freely. He also had unique ways to make use of the free appendages.

Charlie would blast the padded bludger at the twins, like any normal beater, and he also had a way of dislodging the quaffle from them. He'd buzz past the twin holding the quaffle and hook his ankle around the arm holding it. His foot would catch on the arm and wrench it out of its ability to hold the quaffle. Harry hadn't really seen that kind of manoeuvre before.

"Is that a legal seeker move to use your ankle like that?" Harry asked Bill.

He chuckled. "Kind of. You're not allowed to try and directly fly into someone. It's a penalty if it pulls them off their broom or completely changes their direction of flight. He spent years trying to master it. When he just wrenches their arm, it's not normally ever called as a penalty."

Harry listened. Oliver Wood had told him about the various styles of being a seeker. He was more of Krum's style. Occasionally, he would help out his chasers but Gryffindor's squad typically outmatched or equalled their opponent. It was why his role of just focusing on the snitch was the one Wood had pushed him towards. It was interesting to see a more interfering in the game style.

A flash of silver-blonde hair turned Harry from the sky back to the Burrow. Fleur was making her way over to them. Harry noticed that Bill had lust in his eyes as she walked over to him.

"'Arry" She greeted him warmly, sat down, and leaned over onto Harry. Bill watched this and raised his eyebrow. The way the two were so close together seemed to indicate they were more than just friends. He raised his eyebrow at the younger man with a questioning look. Harry shrugged the shoulder Fleur was not glued to.

"Ze introductions were so quick; I had missed your name," Fleur said politely to Bill. Harry laughed internally at the dour look Bill flashed before he did his best to turn the circumstances around.

"Bill Weasley" he stuck his hand out to greet her again, even though they had already been introduced today. Fleur pushed her arm forward and Bill took her hand and kissed the back of it. "It is certainly a pleasure to meet someone as radiant as you." He gave her a roguish smile, which matched his overall look of dragon hide jacket, long hair, fang earring and confident demeanour.

"You must be very skilled and score well in your classes to have been picked by the Goblet of Fire," Bill said, entreating Fleur into a conversation.

Harry wasn't really sure exactly how to take the situation. Fleur wasn't his girlfriend, but it was awkward for her to be almost clinging to him and have another guy try and chat her up. He didn't think he was jealous, per se, but having guys hit on her wasn't on his agenda for the day. Yet, he didn't want to scowl and do something that would be taken as him being overtly interested in Fleur.

"Oui, I'd like to think so, and I did score the top in my year three years running." Her free hand ran through her hair and she flipped it from behind her to her front. It ran over the more elevated shoulder, the one not touching Harry. Her hand ran through it pulling it in front of her chest and when the hand ran down, it fell back.

Harry thought the movement was kind of odd. He'd not spent a great deal of time with Fleur but he'd not seen her do this set of movements before. He'd seen her play with her hair a handful of times and it was normally done with the hair bunched in one hand and the other stroking it off to the side. It seemed more like she was using it to cover herself further. He'd felt the slight shiver when Bill kissed her hand. He noticed how quickly she withdrew it and how she grasped onto him a little more than usual for the few seconds afterwards.

"Not just a pretty face then." Bill grinned. "You're smart as well. Are your _wand _skills up to the same level?"

This last comment did bring a frown to Harry's face. He wasn't perfectly convinced it was meant as a double entendre with a perverse connotation but he knew Bill was bright enough to have avoided it if he'd realized it.

"I am the duelling champion at my school this year as well." She gave him a forced polite smile then smirked at him. "'Arry though is already more skilled than I and his OWL marks were prodigieux, 'e is _so_ impressionnant," she dropped her head onto his shoulder and maintained eye contact with Bill as she did so.

"Is he now?" He answered with a question and then a nonchalant remark. "I've heard tales of the boy for years."

"Oh, he's not all talk that' for sure." She flashed a wicked grin at both males. "I've been on the end of his _wand_. It was almost more than I could handle. I was exhausted, I couldn't walk right and I was so very sore. We'll just 'ave to keep practising. Practice makes prefect, you won't mind, will you, 'arry?" The combination of the sultry purr in her voice and the wicked grin was quite something. Adding to their constant body contact, Harry had no chance to stop a full flush descending across his body, from head to toe.

"Practice makes perfect, not prefect." Harry muttered while trying to recover from being teased so effectively.

"Oh see," Fleur clung to his side even further, "'arry knows exactly what I meant." Her brilliant smile radiated her enjoyment.

Bill laughed good-naturedly at the young woman's antics.

It brought a sigh of relief when the players all landed around them disrupting further conversation.

"Undefeated in two vs two." George proclaimed loudly, to the annoyance of Ron and Ginny.

"Nobody's on the same page as we are. Can't beat perfection such as us." Fred continued.

"Shut it, you gits. Of course, you two would win when you both play on the quidditch team!" Ginny was visibly annoyed when she landed and now she was even more put out.

"Aww, ickle Gin Gin, it's okay. Don't worry, we'll make it all better." With a not so inconspicuous wink, they latched onto her in a big sweaty hug and ruffled her hair.

"Eep! That's disgusting!" Ginny raged at her brothers. "Get off!" She futilely tried to push them off her. Her only chance to get away was to wiggle out and use her small lithe figure to her advantage.

Harry looked at Ron, who had been red-faced and quiet around him since he arrived. He saw his cheeks were tinged in red and his jaw a little too slack. His line of sight targeted to just beside him. If there was a chance at reconciling, it no longer existed. Bringing Fleur brought forth a seething jealousy. Harry didn't bother to acknowledge nor call him over.

He stood now, as both Fleur and Bill were doing the same, and got Charlie's attention. "Quite the move there with your feet." He complimented the older dragon tamer.

"Thanks! I was hoping to fly against you today, but I can see you have better things to keep you occupied." He gave a meaningful glance at Fleur, who was talking to Bill.

"I didn't think it was appropriate to abandon her just so I could fly a little, though she did leave me to help your mom prepare dinner."

"I bet that went well, eh Bill?" Charlie responded having seen the two had turned their attention to Harry and Charlie's conversing.

"A girl, who is a friend, helping mom in the kitchen." He barked out a laugh. "That never goes well. Everything has to be done her way by the exact process that she likes." Bill ruefully added.

"Being French won't help too." Charlie chimed back in.

"Being so close to 'poor Harry dear', Gin-Gin's crush, that just seals it. Good luck getting her to be anything more than politely glared at." Bill shook his head while grinning.

"She might think you corrupted the poor boy with your _wily charms_." Charlie put in another remark, not wanting to let Bill get the last word.

Fleur scowled playfully. "If only he would let me corrupt him with my charms. 'Arry is too much of a gentleman to let little ol' moi do anything of the like." She wiped off a fake tear. "Plus Natalia has the track as they say."

"The inside track you mean?" Harry muttered petulantly.

Fleur beamed at his and wrapped him in a side hug. "See! 'e always helps moi."

"Natalia Pavlova… you're a braver man than I." Charlie said with some disbelief.

"Do you know her or her family?" Harry curiously asked.

"Eh, not really. If you work in Romania and find yourself exchanging stories over too many firewhiskys, you get to hear about them eventually."

"In curse-breaking expeditions, there are stories here and there told about them," Bill commented after Charlie.

Harry looked at them expectantly.

"They have a reputation for being ruthless and doing _anything_ to get what they want."

"Pretty well the same in the camps."

Ron used the lack of response from Harry to interject into the conversation. "You just had to bring _her_, didn't you! it wasn't enough to get all the press, you had to bring _her_ to humiliate me too!"

Harry looked to his two eldest brothers and neither had any clue what Ron was upset about. Fleur looked confused, though she might have an inkling of what was going on.

"Didn't you listen when they said their families were close for years and they wanted to continue that?" Fred or George loudly interjected before things could escalate.

"Plus you humiliated yourself anyway! Asking Fleur to the Ball by yelling out at her then grabbing her wrist when she tried to walk past. How did you think blurting out 'bemydateyoureagoddess' at the top of your lungs was going to get her to agree."

"Ron, just go inside and get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready soon," Ginny's may be the smallest and the youngest but none of the brothers liked dealing with her when she was angry.

Ron, who was in full tomato mode, stomped away without saying anything further.

"Did he really do that?" Harry asked, knowing it was possible after how strong Ron had reacted to veela at the World Cup.

"I don't know? I turned down many boys and settled for Viktor after I couldn't ask the one I wanted to go with," she fluttered her eyes at him and threw her hair back over her shoulder so it draped down her back.

Two pops of apparition sound from within the ward line.

"Dad and Percy, that'll mean dinner then," Charlie observed and informed their two guests. "C'mon we are inside today."

The group of them trotted into the home after all the equipment was put away. Fred and George had gone purposefully close to Harry and isolated him to get a quick word in.

"We're all good, Harry ol' boy?" Fred asked; the twins had solemn looks on their faces.

"I was upset for a bit but we're all good. You can pass that to Katie, Angelina, and Alicia too."

"We'll let them know. They'd asked if we'd see you more over break." George added with a grin. "They wanted to see if they should plan to apply to switch houses or not."

"Switch houses?" Harry parroted back with a frown.

"It's all the rage. Like a boy in Ravenclaw, why not try and get closer?" George swooned in reply.

"And if you need a new keeper, recruit for your quidditch team!" Fred added, making sense for why the chasers were so interested.

"Oi, stop lollygagging and get in here," Charlie yelled at them ending their brief chat.

Harry entered after Fleur, and they moved to the table.

"Harry dear, there's a spot between Ron and Ginny, where you always sit." Mrs Weasley informed him, kindly.

"I should sit by Fleur; I did bring her." He frowned and then replied.

"Nonsense. Charlie and Bill can entertain her for dinner. They are closer to her age anyway, dear."

Harry didn't fail to notice the tightening of her face when she saw how close the two stood. By this point, Harry was getting rather used to having a girl close to him. Natalia enjoyed physical contact with him and Fleur had been upfront that she would be tactile with him, and frankly, he enjoyed it.

"She's barely spoken to them, and she is my guest, I should stay with her. Plus, I wouldn't want her beside the twins, that's just cruel," he smirked at them, trying to diffuse anything before it got started.

Without waiting for a response, he took the two seats beside Charlie. Charlie was on the end where Arthur sat, and directly across from Bill. The twins sat across from Harry, Ginny sat beside Fleur. She was across from Percy. Ron and Molly were on the far end of the table and were the furthest from Arthur, Charlie and Bill.

The food was served and it was a free for all.

"So why are you still around? I thought Charlie would have gone back after the First Task, and Bill you didn't mention you'd be here during the year when we talked this summer." Harry began a more frivolous line of questioning to get the table conversation going, now that they'd all had a decent start on their meals. The dinner had lacked much in the way of a conversation after Mrs Weasley and Harry had their awkward exchange.

"The Ministry had requested a dragon expert to stick around and help the investigation into the first task. It should have been over quickly but some political games are being played with the issue. I think who is going to shoulder the blame is the issue." Seeing Harry's interest, he elaborated further, "Bagman, Crouch, Bones, Fudge, and who knows who else, are involved to varying degrees."

Bill cut him off. "Yeah, we've heard it all from Perce. Crouch is the frontrunner due to his absence but his department didn't have anything to do with it so it's hard to scapegoat him. Bagman should take it on the chin but the man has spent his whole life dodging bludgers and it's carried over well." He impersonated his brother, much to his chagrin.

Harry smirked and added on, "Cauldron thickness might have been the culprit. Might have mixed something wrong in a faulty cauldron," he sighed overdramatically. "If only they'd read Percy's report, this would never have happened, definitely not Crouch." Harry grinned and his glance at Percy showed he was too busy droning on about something to his mother to have heard.

Both boys chortled, the twins snickered, Fleur was out of the loop not having been around for the World Cup, and even Arthur snorted.

Arthur coughed, to hide his amusement, and put a lid on the topic. "Well, the department heads will sort that out. Hopefully, Crouch gets over his illness so we can put it all behind us. Twas quite the tragedy." Charlie nodded vigorously. Harry disagreed, he rather liked the result of the ritual, not that anyone here had an idea it was him.

"I'm still around because Gringotts has been contracted to provide some warding services. The expedition I was supposed to be on got cancelled, over who got what percentage of the loot, and so I got volunteered to be the Gringotts liaison for any services they could provide for the tournament." He shifted forward a little, "Not a big fan, but it might be worth it now." He said looking directly at Fleur.

The young woman didn't show any kind of reaction. She'd met his gaze and not let it affect her one way or the other. "I see." He wasn't too pleased with Bill making overt moves on Fleur, but it was subtle enough he didn't think it elicited a response. Besides, Fleur had said she was rather used to amorous pursuers.

"Anything interesting in your department, Mr Weasley?" Harry asked politely, not actually curious but he'd asked the other two.

"Just follow-ups from the World Cup. Perkins and I aren't caught up from all that yet. Far too much paperwork and with many of the culprits being non-nationals it makes it a big mess." He looked a bit forlorn as he finished.

Harry didn't want to hear any further about that and moved onto the twins. "So have I missed anything not being at Hogwarts? Anything new, aside from trouble?" He gave them a mischievous look that the twins returned easily.

"Us, trouble? Perish the thought!" George snickered.

"You'd never prank Ron with a spider wake-up call, or charm Percy's prefect badges." Bill drawled to everyone's amusement.

When the chuckling died off, Fred answered Harry's query. "There is a big event and it is the opportunity for re-sorting."

"I'd heard a little at the Ravenclaw table but what is the big deal with sleeping somewhere else in the castle?" Fleur asked, speaking for the first time at the dinner table.

"Ah, ma belle femme, it is _so _much more than just where you sleep." Fred winked when he complimented Fleur in french.

Fleur giggled at Fred. "Tu parle en francais? Je suis impressionné."

Fred, and George's, blank face wrecked any prank or joke they might hope to pull from the little French flirting they knew.

"Désolé," she shook her head in disappointment.

"Anyways," Harry drew attention back to the topic of conversation before it got sidetracked. "The house system is _supposed_ to be more like a family. You take your classes together, hang out in the common room, sleep in the dorms with your best friends, and you look after each other. There are rivalries from the points system that encourages academic, behavioural and quidditch excellence."

"And with the decision to allow changes, it's the first time there will be allowance for major re-sortings in the history of Hogwarts," Bill informed them.

"It's the major story for all the gossip it creates. Does so and so like someone in the House because they are thinking about switching? Well, could it be they had a falling out with their housemates? And so on. Quidditch captains are campaigning to recruit players from other teams. It's great for business!" Fred exclaimed.

"We thought the tournament was a good place for betting, but, wow, it has _nothing_ on the re-sorting. Odds on how many people are leaving Slytherin, which house a person will get into, how many will be allowed to switch, etc. You name an angle and we have odds for it." He flashed a broad grin across his face.

"What are the generic odds for houses?" Charlie asked intrigued.

"7:1 Slytherin, 4:1 Gryffindor, 2:1 Ravenclaw and 1.5:1 Hufflepuff. The early betting skewed things, we had to make a few adjustments too." George told them all.

"Why is Gryffindor so high?" Bill wanted to know.

"Shame. All the papers writing nasty things about Gryffindor turning on Harry. Many just want to avoid the vaunted Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry. Though, with how many are considering leaving Slytherin, the rivalry might die. They already have been neutered; Snape can't shield them anymore." Fred told them.

"Then why is Slytherin not worse than 7:1?" Charlie wanted to know.

Fred and George exchanged an amused look. "That, my dear brother, is the Daphne Greengrass Effect."

"Err wot?" Bill bemusedly questioned.

"Don't you know her Harrikins? You've already got Natalia and Fleur fawning over you, she isn't too?"

Harry couldn't help the flushing of his skin. "It's not like that." He stammered out too quickly.

"Non?" Fleur asked, betraying him. "Natalia was enamoured with you at the Yule and Delacour Balls, and I'm besotted with you as well." She fluttered her eyelashes at him. Her amusement plain for all to see.

There were some muttered, or not so muttered, comments directed Harry's way from the unmarried males. The loudest being "lucky sod".

"Wasn't it a Daphne that you danced with a couple of times at the Yule Ball? Was that Daphne Greengrass?" Harry had wanted to get to know Fleur a little better. He now knew something about her that he would have appreciated finding out by observation, not by being the target. She was bloody vicious. Her earlier teasing and now throwing him to the Weasley wolves!

"Oh, we know" George gleefully replied. "They did look _close_ when they were dancing."

"But if you're besotted with Harry, why would you point out the other competitor?" Ginny asked, looking like she hadn't meant the words to come out of her mouth. She clamped her hands over her mouth as soon as she said it.

Ensuring it wasn't taken as a rhetorical question, Fleur remarked right away. "Why would I be concerned? Top duellist at Beauxbatons, best academic marks in France, champion of my school, and veela," she ran through her hair drawing every male eye to her hair and gorgeous figure, "from a distinguished family. I know what I want, and I'm not afraid to go for it."

She gave a meaningful glance at Harry, or more aptly, a leer. "Why would I worry about another _girl_?" She gave a dismissive look to the young red-haired girl. Fleur had her full haughty demeanour coming through, the behaviour that made Harry think she would be out of sorts at a dinner like this.

The temperature in the room did not change, despite what the males in the room may have thought. The frigid air between the two Weasley women and the young Delacour woman would make an arctic gale seem warm.

A pin drop could be heard if one were to drop. Harry frantically thought of a way to dissolve the pervasive tension, but he needed not.

With his mouth still half full of food, Ron obviously broke the disquiet Harry was feeling. "Pass potatoes please." He called out with a hungry look at his targeted prey. Harry reached for the bowl and handed it to Fred who then passed it to Ron. Everyone followed the passage of the bowl bewildered at the comical change.

Cathartic. Harry laughed, followed by Bill Charlie, then the twins, and finally Arthur.

Not letting the previous comments come to the forefront again, Harry asked, "Just what is this Greengrass effect?"

"A stud like you might have natural immunity but us regular hormone-addled teenage boys notice things like a mysterious dark-haired beauty, like one Daphne Greengrass, Slytherin's elegant enigmatic beauty."

"Us mortal men, us poor peasants that dare to dream of having such perfection notice us! She keeps to herself, doesn't date, and only has the time of day for her best friend and younger sister. She's from a well-known family, said to be rich and powerful, but no mere mortal can deign to date fear dread and despair."

"Another Ice Queen?" Charlie asked looking pleased.

"An Ice Queen?" Harry wondered what that was.

"You know, the untouchable girl. The one so cold to any man that would dare to ask them out that nobody but the bravest knight would ever ask her out. They're rumoured to be so frigid to their suitors they freeze their genitals off." He, and all the other males, shuddered involuntarily reaching to protect their precious parts. "Each generation had one. Narcissa Black was said to be one and for our year it was Katie Bell's sister, Amy.." His eyes clouded over just thinking about her.

"Amy was no Ice Queen; she didn't freeze mine off." Bill grinned unrepentantly.

"William Weasley!" Molly Weasley's shrill voice overpowered the laughter. She glared at her eldest son. "How many times have I told you? None of that _disgusting_ talk at the dinner table." Her sightline shifted to Fleur. "It will encourage those younger with wanton ideas."

Fleur, for her part, didn't raise to the barb. She turned back to Charlie. "I'd be considered an Ice Queen, zough I'm more of a Fire Queen, a princess of passion, wouldn't you say '_arry_?" She looked at her younger friend with a sultry look.

"Err… yes." Harry had no idea how he should respond to that. He looked at her and fought off the gulp. It was a quite different being teased in private versus public, especially when the Weasley family was the audience.

She caught the eye of the twins and started giggling, wrecking her sultry look. The twins caught on to her essentially pranking Harry and joined her laughing too.

Harry shook his head, he had to be careful with the vixen beside him.

Bill had found his way out of his mother's ire, thanks to Percy's dull monologuing about the glorious ministry reports he had conceived through rigorous labour, "There's no such things as an Ice Queen. It's more likely a beautiful girl who is introverted and has high standards. Amy was just like that. She did her best to avoid being the centre of attention and reacted poorly when it made her anxious. She was sweet; things just didn't work out."

"Enough of your tales of your imaginary conquests, let's get back to the real importance, betting odds." Fred's rueful look at his annoyed older brother was entertaining to those not named Bill at the table. "There are many males with intent to join the snakes just to slither close to one such as she." He waggled his eyebrows for effect.

"And our stud just happened to have already gotten all close to her!" George added triumphantly.

Harry just shook his head.

How did he get into these situations?

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dinner for Schmucks from the producers of Meet The Parents and Meet The Fockers. No, I couldn't make it through viewing the entire trailer of Schmucks and Fockers. Yet somehow I remember them for chapter titles. Odd.
> 
> Regarding if it's a multi or a single pairing - Wait and see, the characters will figure it out on their own.
> 
> Regarding WW2 and muggle / magical - The statue of secrecy precluding the magicals from being involved. That boggles my mind. 70-80 million direct deaths due to WW2 and estimates ranging over 50 million for indirect causes like famine. Massive infrastructure desolation across major countries in Europe… I cannot comprehend where magicals were not involved to some degree. This fic is AU and Grindelwald was a part of the Axis powers. The magicals and muggle wars were not in total concert nor had shared leadership to any degree. Cooperation sure, but cohesion no.
> 
> Thanks to Haphne24 for all the awesome beta work.
> 
> Great to see people are enjoying the fic. I'm enjoying writing it. Thanks for all the reviews, follows, favs, and PMs.


	16. Point of Contemplation

_There is an art within magic that is uniformly ignored by the populace of magicals. There is a degree of difficulty that precludes most of the would-be practitioners from ever moving beyond being a novice. Part of the reason for the rarity, of even moderate skill, is the lack of teachability. The instructions are poor and so few are stubborn enough to persevere. The general guideline for how to learn this sacred art is rather simple and I will lay it out, in doing so, it will explain what it is._

_Magic has the four analogous pillars: intent, willpower, power and creativity that all blend together. The end goal is simple which is to be able to feel and discern that nature of magic around yourself._

_It is possible to feel the intent of a spell, to tell whether it is meant to harm or heal. To feel the fortitude and willpower of the individual responsible for the magic, to sense how powerful it is and what kind of creative genius it took to be as it is. I am detailing the art of magical sensing._

_The benefits of learning this ability are incomprehensible. The path to learning is rather simple. Try and then do. Try and feel the magic around you, try and discern its purpose, it's power, it's focus, and then differentiate it from everything else. Time, experience and relentless practice are all there is to it._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Harry, I owe you an apology." Bill waited for his words to dawn on Harry's face before continuing, "I know a guy whose brother is married to a veela. He told me about how there are two types of veela. There are those who embrace what they are and those that exploit it." The two had stepped outside at Bill's request while dinner was being cleaned up. Harry had received a few odd looks, particularly from Fleur, but acquiesced the request.

"The latter type we saw as the mascot for the Bulgarian quidditch team. They exploit their looks and use it to get whatever they desire; they are selfish and shallow." He grimaced and Harry shuddered, remembering just how they had used their charms and the effects they had on those around them. Not that he was affected nor Bill now that he reflected on it.

"The former is more genuine. They understand their heritage, their differences, and embrace them." The smooth way he talked made Harry think he could be a good teacher if he desired.

Bill explained further, "My coworker's brother's wife was the ultra faithful type. He told me she had set her sights on his brother and that was it for her." Bill paused, coughing out a barely distinguishable 'lucky bastard' before failing to hide his smirk.

"I'm not sure if that is how it _always_ is, but I was concerned tonight. I was worried Fleur was after you to gain power, fame, wealth or whatever." Bill paused and watched Harry, just the very thought of that clearly upset the younger man.

It wasn't really something Harry had considered much. He'd been focused on trustworthiness, motivations, and why a person associated with him. Here was Bill explaining who someone is and how they identify themselves as an incredibly important factor he'd overlooked.

"You thought she was shallow but now you think she's... genuine?" He asked with a creased forehead and tightly drawn lips.

"Honestly, I really have no idea." He sighed. "Mum will assume she has nefarious intentions due to her background, but that's because she reads tabloids. However, that is another discussion for another time." He grinned ruefully at the young boy "I came to apologize for being an arse. I was trying to push her and see how she responded. I thought she'd know who I was."

Bill had been an arse but he was less interested in that and far more piqued by his thoughts on Fleur and the Delacour family. He could be angry again later. Harry tilted his head and squinted his eyes. "Why would she know who you were?" He questioned.

Bill sported a grin at the question. "I've done some expeditions that were financed by the Delacour family. As the heiress, she should be somewhat aware of her family business ventures. I lead two that had _substantial_ returns and met her father both times. He gave a nice bonus for our excellent work." His lips upturned a little more than Harry thought possible. "So when you were talking to Charlie, I made sure she was aware of that. Her father had even mentioned his daughter was quite accomplished for her age and might have interest in my field of work. I'm still not sure if he was hinting at her learning from me or if it was about planting an idea that we could be a romantic match. Given that, I questioned why she would be interested in you."

"At this point in time, not to sound arrogant, I am the more attractive option. I'm far more accomplished magically, I've proven myself financially and I've finished puberty." Bill laughed jointly at the thought of being pubescent again and the sour look on Harry's face.

With his laughter done, he completed his thought. "Look, I think of you as a little brother so that is why I pulled a test on her. If she was looking to take advantage of an independently wealthy and magically powerful male, that is fetching to look at, and more, then she'd have responded to me," he held up a hand to hold off Harry's retort, choosing to extinguish it before Harry's indignation could be stoked further.

"You _are_ magically powerful for a fourteen-year-old. OWL results really don't mean much and you've only done well on a couple of them. You _might_ be a powerhouse. I've graduated from Hogwarts as the Head Boy, I aced my NEWT exams, I completed _years_ of rigorous training and am at the top of a difficult and dangerous profession. I've made more money on expeditions in the last two years than my parents have in their lifetime and I'm a proven commodity. You've done well on the first couple exams that begin to benchmark one's potential and you've taken control of your public persona. But beyond boyhood fame, you are just that, just _potential_."

Harry's first reaction was outrage, but he didn't let his anger dictate his actions. Instead, he took the argument piece by piece and analyzed it within his head. As he thought it over, he realized Bill was right and he shouldn't get a big head over a couple of exams for teens. He had potential and it was up to him to realize it. As much as the perceived slight grated on his nerves, it was actually the blunt truth. Bill was being upfront with him and that _is_ what he had been wanting.

Harry understood the rationale but was still annoyed at the man. "But why would you care? We barely know each other." His eyes darted back and forth watching the dragon fang earinged man closely, to try and glean anything from his expression and body language.

"You saved Ginny from the monster and she is our precious baby sister." Bill choked up with emotion and could not elaborate further.

Harry himself was perplexed, not be the admission nor the emotion on the man's face. The exact words Bill used were peculiar to Harry. The basilisk was a monster, but why be so unspecific? The man broke into tombs and investigated sites of magical history for a living.

Both of them were wrapped in their own thoughts for a time until Harry replied to Bill's previous sentiment. "Anyone would have." Harry softly said.

"That's not true. Apparently, only you and Ron were willing. It's why our family feels indebted to you. I know Dad, Charlie, Fred, and George all feel the same. You may not be a Weasley brother, but we'll always be there for you," he reverently told Harry.

"Did you ever face one?" This was his opportunity to probe more into the Chamber of Secrets.

"Face what?" Bill asked, puzzled, a frown forming on his face.

"What did your parents tell you about what happened to Ginny?"

"She was taken by a monster into its lair and you rescued her by defeating it," his reply was one steeped in careful adulation and a hint of befuddlement.

"That's all you know? All you wanted to find out?" Harry was careful here. He didn't want to make him defensive, just open and honest.

Bill slowly queried back. "No? Should I have?"

On the exterior, Harry did not show a response. He stood there, silently, for a few seconds, before responding. "No, I just was curious about what your parents told you, that's all."

Bill smiled. "Good, and like I said. We have your back anytime you need it, for Ginny."

Internally, Harry was puzzling over this new piece. A curse breaker who was not interested in finding out where his little sister was taken and what kind of monster it was? If he extrapolated that to Charlie, a dragon handler, a lover of a large XXXXX magical creature, who gave up quidditch for it, was not interested in finding out what kind of monster took his only sister? Something was not right.

"I don't like making myself into a pillock, but I've apologized to you and I'll tell Fleur myself too."

"Thanks, even if I didn't exactly enjoy it either," Harry admitted.

"I've not met this Natalia that you've escorted to balls but I've heard of the family. Worked for some expeditions that had their backing too. Be careful. From what I know of Patrice Delacour, he's a stand-up guy to work for and his daughter seems like quite a catch too." He winked and moved quickly out of the way of Harry's attempt to shove him. Bill laughed as he used the momentum to jog back towards the home with Harry following after him.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"What did you think?" Harry asked Fleur having walked out of the ward line of the home.

Fleur looked pensive while she walked beside him. "It was interesting…" She leisurely replied. "It was what I was expecting."

"In what ways?" He had the same thought on the evening with the Weasley family and with Fleur, herself, too.

"I knew of ze Weasleys. William Weasley has been to our home to meet wiz my father. I had not met him, but I was briefed on them. We had looked into the family too, so I was aware of what I was coming to. Seeing the Burrow in person is… different? The home is so small, yet so large. The family is big, yet not. They are so poor and so very rich. Like all though, they have their flaws as well." Watching her face morph through confusion, fondness and irritation, in the end, was as insightful as her words; she was not guarding her emotions from him.

"I know what you mean. Ginny too unsure of herself, lacking identity. Ron too jealous to step out of his brother's shadows. Fred and George too focused on pranks to see how they truly affect everyone. Percy can't see beyond his own ambition, Charlie beyond his dragons and Bill beyond his pride. Molly too controlling and smothering. Arthur too coddling and doesn't speak his mind enough even though he's the leader of the family, not the subordinate." Harry delivered the words that were shared by their joint understanding. Fleur was intuitive, and not just book smart. How she'd watched everyone's interactions closely, it was something he'd been learning to do. Understanding people, one the topics of his education. It had made Salazar great and he was trying to take in all the lessons he learned and apply them.

The two of them had wandered well past the ward line now. Fleur, as always, was right close to Harry, initiating body contact when she was able to. It irritated the Weasley matriarch to the nth degree. The idea Harry would join their family through matrimony was dead and buried with no chance for resurrection any time soon.

"William's apology was.. interesting. What did he say to you outside?" The calculating look in her eyes gave away how keenly interested she was in his response. He'd not failed to notice she was redirecting the conversation to where she wanted to lead it.

Inwardly, he smiled. She had an agenda and he was adding pieces together to figure it out. "He said he was testing you." He didn't allow any inflexion of emotion in his voice.

"Much like he told moi when he apologized." She said nodding responded.

"Were you or are you interested?" It wasn't jealousy per se. It was curiosity, he told himself.

Her body tensed and there was a momentary hitch in her stride. Her eyes narrowed, her chin turned to look at him, her shoulders opened up, and her head followed along with her jaw. "Why do you ask?"

Harry shrugged, working to keep his demeanour as nonchalant as possible. "I want your candid viewpoint. Bill outlined a good argument for why you should be more interested in him than me."

Fleur frowned. "I don't know the reasons he told you, 'ow can I have a viewpoint on it?"

"Well, he explained how I had potential, but he was a proven commodity. He'd graduated Head Boy, been accepted into the Curse Breaker program and done exceptionally well since and even that he knew Patrice and wanted him to possibly take you on as an apprentice…"

She took in his words impassively and didn't answer. They reached the spot they had arrived at. She took the portkey and the two disappeared back to her family's home.

Upon arriving, she asked him to hold onto her and she apparated them to a reclusive part of their estate: the vineyard.

The pale moon was out, high in the sky.

"There is not much to answer, but… I think you are asking about something else," She paused and gave him a challengingly significant look, "Like why I would choose you over someone like him."

Harry didn't respond.

"Money, fame, or wealth? Why would I need this?" She huffed, air exhaling rapidly from her nose, a nose that was raised a little higher than normal as she did so.

Harry looked at her, concerned. He unconsciously took a half step back. She wasn't happy, nobody could miss the obvious tells.

"William _could_ have been an option. There is some merit there." She visibly calmed, "But I've already decided to pursue you." She told him resolutely.

His eyebrows rose. "P- pursue me?" He couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice.

"Oui." Fleur winked.

"Why?" He broke contact with her. When their eyes met, his eyes demanded a sincere answer.

"I told you I could feel you when we touch." Her words soft, hanging heavier than they were delivered.

Fleur moved her right foot forward, halfway between them, and stepped forward. Her right arm was brought up with just the index finger touching his sternum.

"I've touched you as much as I could every time we are together, since the first task."

Harry was nervous, though he didn't believe she would do anything to him that was crossing any form of line. She ran her finger down his chest with the interior of her whole hand being run down him by the time she reached his belly button. Her hand stopped when her pinky finger reached the top of his pants.

"You've never been perverted, not once."

Her hand moved back up his front with her palm stopping on his heart. Her hand moved around to the small of his back. The movement forcing her to get closer to him, there was only an inch between them.

"I am always a conquest, a prize or a _toy_."

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, her hand warming him.

"Even now you are nervous. You are unsure, worried, but you still trust me."

"Don't deny it, I _know_ you are attracted to me." Harry's face reddened; there was no use trying to deny it.

"However, you don't lust after me. You like _moi_ and respect me."

She moved her hand around behind him, stopping it on his back.

"You are kind-hearted and strong-willed."

She stepped forward, leaving only two inches between their bodies.

"It's your character, your drive, and your determination that attracts me. That compels my veela blood."

The space between them was gone; their faces a hair's breadth from touching.

He watched her closely, fearing the sudden change she was undergoing. The air between them seemed to shift. Gone was her casual elegance, the way she'd found a way to be ethereally beautiful in such simple clothes. She was a predator on the prowl now, with her prey before her.

"Do you not feel my breasts pressed into your chest?" Her words caused the exhaled air to tickle his face. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his face, the heat contrasting this cool wintery night under the moon.

"Don't you want to taste my lips? Feel them against your own?" Her sultry voice caused shivers to run down his spine.

"Don't you just want to snake your arms around me, lower them, and fondle my arse?" She wiggled her hips against his for effect.

Harry stood frozen, red-faced and delirious as the words worked through his mind.

She smiled at him. "Even now you control yourself, you fight my teasing. Any other guy would take advantage of this, would have fondled where I suggested." Fleur kissed him on the cheek and pulled back, standing beside him with her supple fingers keeping hold of his bicep.

Harry hadn't moved. He didn't know what was for sure going on with Natalia, but he knew he would feel guilty if he started anything with Fleur.

Fleur had always been tactile with him and it had never bothered him. He'd be careful of it if Natalia was around though. Harry couldn't feel her emotions or intentions, but he could see Fleur's respect for him. She'd never pushed if he'd given the impression he was uncomfortable. Even now, when she was purposefully teasing him, there was no hint she would kiss him, or touch anywhere inappropriate.

She was making her interest clear and he knew she would let him make his own decision, just like Patrice had.

"I'm only fourteen. I don't even know if I want to be in a serious relationship. I'm not even dating Natalia. Aren't you concerned I might change as I grow up and not pick you?" He asked.

His question hung in the air. Fleur was in no rush to answer and the two continued their late stroll through the vineyards while she stewed on his question.

"Non, you are 'arry Potter. You won't change who you are. You'll grow taller, maybe change your hairstyle, learn and experience many different things, but you'll always be 'arry Potter. A person whose overcome a rough upbringing, whose persevered through trouble and come through the crucible stronger and better for it."

"And you're not concerned I would date someone else? That even if I chose to date you now, not every relationship works out. I may not have dated before, but even I know that much." Harry was curious to hear her answer.

The look she gave him radiated with supreme confidence. It reminded him of the speech she'd given earlier at the Weasley home. "Why should I be? Politically, there is almost no better match. Economically, I'm the heiress of my family and you'd have a difficult time pursuing anyone that stands to have more wealth in their future. Beauty?"

She giggled at the thought. "Beauty? I am a veela." She stopped and turned to face him fully. She ran a hand from the top of her head down as far as it could reach with her only slightly bending her knees, her movements reflecting someone showing off something elaborate on display.

"I would treat you well and I know how to treat a man. Ma mere educated me." She winked at him with a predacious look.

He smiled at her, not really sure what else to say. At his age, he had one courtship contract and a declaration of intent from another. Both girls were older and what he would have thought to be out of his league. If these were the kinds of problems he could look forward to, he'd gratefully accept them over facing a dark lord on an annual basis. Though with his luck, he'd be facing the dark lord and having these new problems added to it.

Harry didn't think he needed to respond verbally, he wasn't going to reciprocate and she'd spoken for herself and him. He didn't run away and she wasn't expecting him to suddenly swoon either. Instead, he did, what he'd been learning to do. He put one foot in front of the other and carried on forward.

This silence wasn't uncomfortable. They walked with her retaking his arm and saddling up beside him. They continued walking between rows of vines with moon providing pale light from above leaving just the path lit up as the vines shadowed the rest of the ground.

Harry half nudged her to get her attention before he asked a question he'd wondered about. "Do your empathic abilities extend beyond feeling what I feel?" Seeing her eyebrows trying to knot themselves in confusion he elaborated, "like can you feel magic too?"

Her eyes lit up in comprehension, in a way, Harry found appealing for some reason. "Oui and non. I've been told we are magical than a pureblooded witch or wizard and zat helps with it but it's just what I've been told." Fleur responded. "Why do you ask, 'arry?"

"I've just wondered if you can sense magic too; it would be really cool to be able to do that." He attempted to belay his real interest in the subject.

"I'm not very able at it, yet." He could see determination set in, the thought of being poor at something bothered her. "Curse Breakers are taught to sense magic as it can save their lives. I can only feel the very powerful wards at the ward lines so far."

"That's more than I can do. I don't think I've ever noticed strong wards before." The competitive part came out from within Harry. He didn't like not being able to do something, especially within an art that could be so useful and powerful.

She grinned and impulsively pulled him. "Come 'arry, I'll show you!" She dragged him along and ran through the dirt towards the edge of the property.

It wasn't far to the edge of the vineyard and she stopped five feet past the end of the row of vines and turned towards him.

"This is where I can always feel it, 'arry. We are within the wards but two steps more and we are beyond them. Close your eyes and focus on what you can _feel_."

Harry closed his eyes and let his senses run wild. He could feel the dirt between his toes, the cool air kissing his skin, and the warmth of being at the Delacour property. He could feel Fleur's delicate fingers interlaced with his, he could feel the hammering of his heart and hear the blood pumping through his ears. He could sense a calmness, a protected sanctuary of natural nurture around them. He focused on feeling anything he could and awaited Fleur's instructions.

"Good, just breathe in, slow, and deliberate breaths." She detached herself from him, her physical touch would make it harder. Though Harry could not see it, he could hear Fleur move away from him, a couple of steps in front of him.

"Now, take a step toward me. You should be _on_ the ward line. You should feel _something_. Once you feel _something, take a step._."

Harry complied and sedately stepped forward. He didn't notice a change at first but as his body caught up with his front foot there was something different. He wasn't feeling anything different yet; it was more the absence, or partial absence, of something. As his stride completed and his shoulders sat over top of his ankles, he felt _something_. Half of him was experiencing the same calm protectiveness as before and the other half, the lack of it. Where the two feelings felt there seemed to be an invisible line. Experiencing it was hard for his brain to articulate, even within his own mind. The best his inner monologue could come up with was that he was experiencing what it must feel like to be a television experiences when displaying static. Electromagnetic noise makes static and the ward line was creating magical noise.

He could definitely feel _something_ so he stepped forward again. Harry focused on the noise as his body moved out of it and he could _feel_ the difference on the other side of the ward lines. There was no thrum of magical noise within him, no sense of calm protectiveness. He was outside of that and no longer cloaked in protective magic. He lamented the loss of it.

He wondered if he'd experienced anything like this before. Had he subconsciously attuned the feel of magic, the feeling of being with powerful protective wards as a sense of being home, of being happy to have once again escaped the Dursley home? A feeling of loss leaving the castle at the end of the year strengthened by leaving the wards?

Fleur jostled him and he opened his eyes. "You can feel the difference, oui?" Her melodic voice attenuated the keen clarity of his senses now recognizing he was no longer being within the wards.

"Yes." He said a bit breathless. "Thanks for this." He smiled up at her genuinely.

Salazar's comments of 'try and do' now made more sense.

"My Papa did zis with me when I was little. I'm glad I could share it wiz you, 'arry."

Harry pulled her close and hugged her.

Fleur smiled happily.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Today had been a good day. A day of resetting. Establishing of things back to the norm. He was back to his full workout and education schedule today. It had felt so disjointed recently. Event after event had stacked up. All the time with dancing, Natalia, Fleur, the Delacour's, the Balls, the press, the bank, Madame Bones, Dumbledore, Sirius, Weasleys… The list just kept growing for things he was bogged down with over this break. As great and refreshing as it was to patch up some of those relations, and establish new ones, there really were things he _had_ to focus on.

Voldemort had directly, or indirectly, tried to kill him every single year since he rejoined the magical world. He seriously doubted this year would break the routine and, oddly enough, it was the DADA professor who tried to kill him. He'd need to watch out for Mad-Eye.

Not to mention, the tournament was a multiple-event opportunity to go after his life. His close calls with death were not annual at Hogwarts, they were far more frequent. He had to be wary of multiple attempts this year and more than likely ever-increasing in difficulty and complexion. The dragon in the first task could certainly be counted as one attempt. He'd totally screwed up that plan, though it was luck to go fourth. This second task… maybe he'd have to find a way to disrupt it and simultaneously plan well for. It wouldn't take a genius to see the third task was going to be the major event that leads to an attempt on his life.

He'd prepare and be ready for the next two tasks. It wasn't that he had wasted this holiday season, by attending events and visiting with people. In fact, the connections he was creating could become rather important later. This wasn't a one-on-one deathmatch scenario with Voldemort versus Harry Potter in a cage match until one of them died. It was more like a magical civil war. His side having wealth, connections and a small army to call upon.

There was a whole list of things he had best work on first.

_ **Topics to investigate:** _

_Tom Riddle - Why kill an infant? Why wipeout Potter family?_

_Invisibility Cloak - Soul Magic, Invisibility cloaks_

_Chamber of Secrets - How does it adapt? How does it enforce its secret?_

_Potter Accounts and History - Meet Bloodfang after emancipation._

_House Elves - History and abilities_

_Triwizard Tournament - Second Task & Third Task_

_Parseltongue_

_Cuddles_

Lawyer

_Tom Riddle_, who would know about him growing up? Certainly, Dumbledore did. However, would he give up precious information? Doubtful, at best. His socializing had brought about one more _significant_ lead that could be of help here: Horace Slughorn. The man had offered to spend more time with him.

_Dear Horace Slughorn,_

_It was lovely to have made your acquaintance at the Yule Ball and just as disappointing we were unable to spend more of the evening together. You had generously offered to spend an evening together going out for dinner._

_I don't know anyone that was remotely close to my mother and I've always wanted to learn more about her. As a favourite student of yours, I was hoping you would be able to tell me about her._

_I'm writing this letter to take you up on your offer, assuming it still stands. My schedule is rather flexible with studying taking up most of my time. If you had a recommendation on where to meet that would be helpful as my experience with wizarding cuisine is rather limited and I'd presume one such as yourself would be rather knowledgeable on the subject._

_Looking forward to our evening together,_

_Harry Potter_

That was icky and unpleasant to write. The man had seemed to have a soft spot for his mom and Harry could leverage that.

_Invisibility cloak_… no progress. Shockingly, not even someone like Lacroix had dropped a random tidbit of information that lead to a groundbreaking revelation. Sad, but not all these mysteries would solve themselves.

_Chamber of Secrets_, that was one he'd made headway on but yet not. Bill should have been all over it. He's a curse breaker. There is no way the man would hear about the fabled Chamber of Secrets and not be dying to know more about it. Charlie was a man who worked with fire breathing reptiles! He loved monsters to death and the man should be demanding to know _everything _about the basilisk that almost abetted his sister's murder.

What could be so strong that it could affect the minds of wizards for centuries after its creator's death? A compulsion? Charms were inherently shorter term. Runes were made for long-term self-sustaining magic, not charms. Could it be a ritual, a ward, or some other magic? All of those lead down a path of having to do more research.

It was more than likely beyond his comprehension right now. He needed to gain knowledge and ability as quickly as possible to be able to sort these things out. Dumbledore would have been ideal as he was an incredibly accomplished academic, but he didn't trust the man. The more Harry thought about it the more he considered he should ask different people about different topics. Targeting people who would be unlikely to divulge information to each other would be good too.

Bill would be a good candidate to find out more about wards or magical manipulation. How a historical site could keep itself from being discovered and methods to analyze them. Slughorn could be the key to looking into a young Tom Riddle. He already had Madame Bones doing work, but that left him with a few issues he had no leads on.

His invisibility cloak, parseltongue, politics, the tournament… He first considered Sirius and Remus for researching his cloak but both were aware of James having it and never remarked beyond that. Remus was probably a better candidate to help out with parseltongue and just exactly what it was. With the Black library, they might be able to dig something up.

Politics in general, he had Fleur and Natalia's parents for aid. Locally, Andromeda might be useful, but the fact Dumbledore recommended her kind of put him off. He wanted to separate himself from the man's camp.

The tournament was probably best to handle himself. With Bones looking into it and him probably needing to do something illegal or unethical to disrupt it, if he found a way to, it would be best not to have anyone aware of those activities.

That left his cloak. His gut feeling was to talk to Fleur about it or Natalia. He felt he could probably trust Fleur more than Natalia at this point.

Harry shook his head as a pulsing light drew his attention. Natalia had written him a message.

He grabbed the book and opened it to read its content.

_ **Free to hang out today?** _

Was he free? Yes, but he couldn't keep spending all his days with friends. His very life was in jeopardy.

_ **Not really. Got a lot to do today.** _

Things like unravel secrets, train, learn, prepare for rituals...

_ **Oh… I'd just hoped to see you again. I've really missed you.** _

She'd really missed him? Unseen to anyone, but Cuddles, Harry shrugged. It was nice to think she did though he wondered if it was more that he'd spent a day with Fleur.

_ **A walk late tonight?** _

Harry wrote back. He couldn't train all day since his body needed rest and he couldn't study all night either, his mind needed rest. A walk would be nice to loosen up his body and the fresh air to refresh his mind.

_ **Okay. 9 PM?** _

Harry confirmed the time she suggested would be fine.

_Invisibility Cloak_ \- Was it just a cloak or was there more to it? From what he knew, Fleur's charm should have revealed his presence, after he bumped into her. Should he get her and her family to help? Could, and should, he trust the Delacour's? If he asked Sirius or Remus, they would probably talk to Dumbledore or solicit his opinion. The man had kept it for a decade and probably had puzzled out secrets.

It would have been far more simple if he had grown up as the Delacour's said he should have. Taking vacations in the summers, exchanging cards and growing up with a pseudo aunt and uncle. Still, it bothered him, Fleur's excuse for not coming to meet with him right away seemed flimsy.

He'd leave it in the past, not forget it, but also not let it colour their current relations. They'd been far more upfront than the Pavlov family.

Natalia had been manipulative from the get-go. Was Lacroix in on it?

Harry shook his head. _Focus, stop getting sidetracked._

He wouldn't decide today, but Harry was leaning towards getting Fleur to help him.

_House Elves_ \- Dobby was amazing. He kept him fed, clothed, and took care of errands.

_Triwizard Tournament _\- He was well aware it was a retrieval task. The tournament was very traditional. There were always three tasks and only the first two actually varied. Either a retrieval type task or objective-based combat with a magical creature. Only the order changed meaning this left him with retrieval. If the retrieval was the first task, they'd take _something_ from him. For the Second Task, it was always _someone_. He doubted the Committee would change this now. He'd gotten the clue from his egg and surmised it would be fetching someone from the merman settlement.

He was thinking of trying to disrupt the task again for two reasons. First, it would heighten awareness for more sabotaging of the tournament for the Third Task, the moment he assumed would bring the highest chance for the attempt on his life. Secondly, if there was a plan to kill him in the second task it would make it go awry.

It could backfire. He could be caught and in serious trouble for screwing with an international event. It could lead to suspicions on him having a role in the dragon's death too, which he had escaped the scrutiny of.

It wasn't January yet and the task was late February. He still had an ample amount of time to decide.

_Parseltongue and Cuddles_ \- both were related. He had to spend time working on just what he could and could not do with Cuddles. He would experiment and explore with her and he could see if Remus and Sirius could help him with Parseltongue.

All that really left was a game plan for legal representation for himself and getting Sirius free. He had some leads on a lawyer but wanted to consider them further, probably meet Andromeda Tonks first before he considered deciding at all. That just left Gringotts and finding out more about the Black family.

Well, he mused, _no time like the present._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"I always think 'why are we going there again?' when we decide to go for a walk here." She sighed contentedly and shifted closer to Harry, "But then we get here… I like this place, just the two of us... it kind of feels like our thing, you know." Natalia spoke softly as they walked through the park together.

"Mhmm." Harry agreed.

The air was familiar, the path the same and in short order, they found themselves on the bench they both thought as theirs.

Nervous anticipation was between them. She'd not wanted him to spend so much time with Fleur and her parents had wanted a courtship contract. The two weighed heavily on his mind and the air between them wasn't what it was the last time they were here. It was heavy and perturbed.

He had no experience with how to handle this. There was nothing _wrong _between them, but something was keeping it from being as it was before.

"Did you have fun with yesterday? Was it nice to see your friends?" Harry heard the polite inquiry and also what was not said: 'Did you have fun with Fleur?'

He turned his head and gave her a strained look. "Yes and no."

Frowning, she prompted him for more. "Why's that?"

"I dunno." He half shrugged, the corners of his mouth pinching together further. "It was good to see some of them and yet everything didn't go like I thought it would."

A half-smile grew on his face, "It was nice to see my dad's friends. Then, Fleur took to the Weasley home just fine, but some of them didn't really like her if that's what you really wanted to know," he smirked at her, and it grew when he saw her small blush.

"Fleur is interested in me," he stated bluntly.

"I know." She said in a small, resigned voice.

"There's not anything for you to be overly worried about. She's not trying to seduce me in the way you would expect. She didn't try and kiss me or do anything other than state her interest and be a friend."

He watched his words sink in. He thought he saw some relief, jealousy, and some incredulity with her face resting in a sustained frown.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, the frustration in her features leaking into her words so they came out with a low growl.

He ignored the question in favour of continuing to bring the issue to head. "I'm going to spend time with her and her family. She's the heiress to the Delacour family. A family that is tied to mine and one it would be a brutal error to alienate them."

The intent hadn't been to make her upset and yet he could see the effects they were having. They were like a sucker punch to her gut. He could see she was taking them differently from his intention. Her complexion had paled, her breathing was shallow, and her grip on his arm had slackened. He could almost hear the protruding wrinkles on her furrowed forehead.

"Did our time together mean so little?" she whispered in despair, whether it was to herself or meant for him to hear he wasn't sure. Regardless, he'd head this off before he made it worse.

"I wanted your help," his words brought an immediate reaction, hope was shining in her eyes again. "You said that you wanted to help me, and I'm asking for advice because I don't know what the right course of action is. I don't want to mislead you or set expectations that will never work." His measured words and the calmness of his voice soothed her fears.

He continued calmly, "Your family wants me to sign a courting contract for you. I know what those are. Legally, they are breakable, but the second it is announced, it's tantamount to saying we are married."

"I was going to tell you tonight," she said abruptly, panic poorly veiled in her response. "I swear it! I know how you'd take that- that it would break the trust we've built and you might not forgive me for it," her words coming rapidly.

Harry waited, letting things settle before he responded. He did not want to be dealing with a frantic girl. He wanted her in a proper state of mind. He wasn't planning on ending things between them, but he also was less sure she was trustworthy.

He gave her a side-armed hug. "Just breathe," he told her quietly.

Her chest heaved against him. She'd been unsettled by his less than tactful words. He really sucked at this. He could feel the deceleration of her breathing, her bosom not pressing into his ribcage as much... With her calmer, he disengaged.

They were only six feet from their usual bench now, Harry directed them towards it and waited until they were seated before continuing. She sat close to him, closer than normal, like the allowance for any space between them could be perceived as a gap in their relationship.

"I'm fourteen. Famous, talented and coming into some political and economic power. I've been kind of dating the daughter of a powerful foreign family that isn't within the historic expectations for friends of my family." He stared at her for a few seconds ensuring she was fully listening and not just hearing his words.

"Then friends of my family come out of nowhere and want to take me under their wing, to guide, protect, and maybe even be a loving family to me. Their eldest, the heiress, is attracted to me." He shook his head, "And just my luck, the two families don't get on."

She shifted allowing her hand free reign to gently stroke his outer thigh in a comforting manner. She snuggled into him further.

"That's not even the worst of it. The family of the girl I _do_ like wants me to declare marriage for her after just a couple weeks of knowing each other. I've not told the Delacour family, but I imagine they'd have no or limited issues with the same arrangement for Fleur."

It was everything on his mind about the two girls that liked him. Both were being unfair to him. One with the family expectations, not to mention manipulations from her, and the other putting him in an untenable position. Neither girl had malicious intent and yet here he was having to deal with all this garbage, all this drama.

"I'm only _14_ for Merlin's sake!" Harry exclaimed with great frustration. "Tell me, what am I supposed to do? I don't even know what I'm going to do with my life!" The words flew out of his mouth.

Nothing was said for a couple of minutes. They sat content in the silence.

It was Harry that broke the silence. "Well? What advice can you suggest?"

This was always going to be biased advice, but Harry had thoughts on that. If you can understand their bias and view the advice from that prism, it could become useful advice. Further, asking the same questions of multiple parties with different biases can help him formulate a more neutral standpoint.

"You can't ditch the Delacour family," she said, painfully, like they were the very last words she wanted to come out of her mouth.

Harry was somewhat surprised. There was no way she wanted to say that, to admit he should still spend time around Fleur, even if she didn't mention her specifically.

"And your family?" he asked, smirking inwardly. He was enjoying just how uncomfortable this was now for her, if he was going to be annoyed with this he could spread around the misery.

"I didn't expect it at all, yet." Her eyebrows were raised and nostrils flared as she said that to him.

"Yet?" He questioned; if she'd expected it would come why had she hid it?

She sighed, "Yes, yet." she didn't appear to be too pleased with this admission. "England is too far out of our normal realm of influence economically and politically. The real benefit of gaining a match with you, for the family, is for our reputation. Switching sides didn't do us any kindness with both sides of the Grindelwald war. Neither side trusts us and, although that goes away as each generation passes, having you accept the Pavlov family would soothe a lot of that with the lighter side of things."

"Did your siblings use a courting contract or a marriage contract?" As much as Harry had learned, he still had many gaps in knowledge of the wizarding culture or things he would have known had he grown up in a magical household.

She shook her head and her eyebrows pinched together, her lips thinning as she thought about the answer. "No... well, yes, but probably not how you're asking."

Harry looked at her questioningly, awaiting the answer.

"None of them used a courting contract; they are pretty rare. Only like little kids get put in them really. All of my siblings have marriage contracts but they are more like a prenuptial agreement in the muggle world. Just outlining wealth, businesses, what they can inherit, etcetera. Those are really normal for the wealthy." She informed him.

Harry nodded, accepting her words and greater expertise on the subject.

He didn't really want to do this next part but it had to be done. His stomach was unsettled and tight. His face was marred by the unpleasant thoughts going through his head but he was going to do this now.

"I'll be straight with you. I don't trust your family and, frankly, I can't read you. At times, I think you are genuine and you've been honest with me. Then other events make me think otherwise. I don't want to judge you because of who your family is but it's hard to not colour you with that brush." He didn't look directly into her eyes, she'd hidden her face away from him as she silently listened to him.

"I don't know what to do about it. I used to trust blindly and my eyes have been opened. I don't know how to fix this. Your parents asking for a courtship contract kind of put the nail in the coffin. With me being in a deadly tournament, I don't think I can pursue a relationship with you right now." He squeezed his eyes shut as he finished. He'd wanted her to be perfect for him like she had seemed when he saw her dance for the first time, but real life isn't a fairytale.

Harry withheld chuckles. It was like he was breaking up with her. He hadn't intended that but as the words tumbled out they just progressed there naturally. How could he be in a relationship with someone he couldn't trust? He couldn't be, it was that simple.

He could see silent tears leaking down her face and he felt _awful_ for causing them. However, it wasn't his fault he reminded himself.

"I- is... Is there _something_ I- I c- could do?" The desperation in her voice was palpable. There was no faking those tears, the hurt displayed all over her face.

"What is there that you could do?" Harry asked, having no idea how to proceed in that direction. "How do you magically create trust?" He asked rhetorically.

She clung closer to him. "I- I've," She wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. "I can admit I've done those things, but, and I really mean it, I've _never_, not once, done it for anything that wasn't beneficial for you."

Harry twisted his body so he could see her a little better, turning towards her, wanting to be able to look into her eyes, directly, as they spoke. "How would I know? I question Lacroix as well."

"She did it for you!" Natalia was vehement with her words. "She pushed you, she made you confident, and she guided you. She hoped we would get on, but it wasn't for some nefarious purpose! She thought we could help each other! And we have!" An inner fury had awoken when Harry said something negative about her dance instructor, the woman had gone to bat for her too many times to idly sit by when she was criticized.

"How did I help you?" He questioned her words, glad to see her unhinged, she might not filter her words as she does when she's composed.

"We are good together! We worked the Yule Ball and Delacour Ball. My parents were deeply impressed by you! You dance so well for being so new at it and you _really_ cared to make sure you were good and could keep up with me." She exhaled deeply out her nostrils, trying to visibly reign in her emotions, her narrowed eyes widening and her depressed eyebrows relaxing as she sat back, away from him.

"You didn't know who Natalia Pavlova was; you just saw Natalia the ballet dancer. You saw me… and you like me for me," her voice was small as she brought her feet up onto the seat of the bench, her knees drawn together and chin hidden behind the tops of her knees. Her arms had found their way around her legs and she was working to control her shuddering breaths, not all that well.

"I did like you, but I don't know what was real, I don't know your true intentions and without trust, how could we ever work together?" Harry was far more composed now than he was. He kept his words measured and hoped they didn't twist the dagger.

Natalia vacantly stared straight ahead of herself. "This can't be the end. It can't end like this." She was almost incoherent as she was whispering, out loud, to herself, either heedless or apathetic to Harry overhearing her.

Harry was tired of dealing with this drama. All he wanted was to get back to the chamber. He quickly enacted a plan and spoke. "We can still be friends," he ended with a shrug.

It was like a light went off in her head, like an engine was fired up and roaring after being idle for too long. A fire churned behind her eyes and she dropped her legs back to the ground and twisted back towards him. She gave him a blinding smile, "You just need to be able to trust me, to learn the truth of things! We can do that!" She'd done a total 180-degree turn about. From down and depressed to bouncing with energy on the bench beside him.

"How would we do that?" Harry asked, sceptically.

"Veritaserum," she stated matter of factly. "We can both take it and then take turns asking questions like we did before!" She was practically vibrating beside him in her seat, her eyes pleading for him to accept the idea.

"I've heard of it, but I won't take it and risk giving up all my secrets." Harry was firm on that, no way would he allow himself into a position where he would have to give up Salazar Slytherin as his deceased mentor or have to explain Cuddles and his rituals.

"Oh, you probably don't know. The common Veritaserum is a truth potion combined with a Babbling potion. When you are asked a question, the Babbling potion forces you to say _something_ and the Veritaserum forces that _something_ to be the truth. We can just take the normal stuff! You can only answer with the truth, but you're not compelled to answer if you don't want to. It works really well."

"Oh." Harry had never heard of anything like that. Snape had threatened he'd dose him and make him spill his secrets.

"We can try but I'm not making any promises," he told her stoically.

He may as well have promised her the moon as she lunged forward and hugged him for all he was worth. She was confident they could still work out, happy she still had a chance, and that things weren't over, for now, at least.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be reposted after it has been beta'd, some changes may occur.
> 
> I know it's been forever since I have updated. Life happens. Seriously this was written piecemeal, like 200 words at a time, over way too long. Then when it got beta'd it was just terrible. It needed a total rework and I was incapable of writing at a decent level for a while. Work is busy and I have a new baby so life is killing my time and ability to write, I fell asleep trying to write too many times. Thankfully, another one is in the books and I'll continue working on the next one whenever I am able.
> 
> I do see and respond to many reviews directly. I really do want to appreciate the readers for the support too. It's encouraging to have busy weeks and see consistent favs, follows and reviews come in. Thanks again everyone for favs/follows/reviews, they are always appreciated!
> 
> Haphne24 has beta'd the horrid version but it has been totally reworked. Haphne24 will get around to doing the beta later this week and I'll repost then.


	17. Cunning Commencements

_Deception is one of the most misunderstood concepts. One often believes deception is a synonym for lying, being underhanded, duplicity, double-dealing, fraud, so on and so forth. The errant viewpoint has a connotation more akin to a thief than an artist. Is not an actor a deceiver? Is not the artist's goal to deceive the viewer? It is oft that to be deceitful is to be a liar. This perception, this understanding is, however, wrong._

_The art of deception is one of the most practical skills a burgeoning wizard will need. The importance of the ability to lie is not found in the actual act; rather, it is the ability to beguile and allow others to misunderstand events is where the true value of deception is found. Having the skill to deliver bald-faced lies as the truth, in a believable manner, is not in and of itself a bad thing. To be known as a liar, though, is a terrible thing. Deception is far greater than simply lying._

_A young wizard must learn to hide their true emotions, purposefully mislead others, and be skilful in acting. The skill is valuable across almost all walks of life. For the politician, it is beyond crucial, in duelling, deceiving your opponent can allow you to strike on their mistake, in society, you can comport a specific image, and in your personal relationships, it can save you emotional pain._

_Part of my success was my ability to cultivate a particular image. All one has to do is to simply look in the history books to learn of my legend. I am known for being cunning and for always paying back slights tenfold. I am known to be a genius practitioner of magic and a person to always be wary of. I have the image of being all-knowing and am said to be unflappable. Where the truth is to be found in those statements, few will ever know. Deception is slyness, it is cunning, it is chicanery, craftiness, dissembling, it is to artifice, it is to be Slytherin._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

This was a strange evening. It isn't the fact that Harry is sitting in the Great Hall awaiting the opening-of-term feast that was strange, no, that was par for the course. A large part of it was where he was seated. Being located at the Hufflepuff table was _strange_. He felt like his equilibrium was miscalibrated. He'd spent countless hours eating and chatting in this hall over the years. And yet, here he was, preparing to do the same but _everything_ felt so different. He wasn't in Gryffindor robes, he wasn't at the Gryffindor table, and then this evening's feast wasn't the norm, there was an air of expectancy, an air of excitement lingering that could not be dissipated.

This wasn't the sorting feast at the start of the year, with first years being brought in, paraded through the entire hall, with all the other pupils seated, and awaiting the traditional sorting. An experience that was harrowing for the wide-eyed first years.

No, this was a sorting feast but not _the_ sorting feast. The night before classes resumed after Yule hols and it was weird. The old weathered sorting hat sat upon the simple wooden stool at the front of the hall, below the head table. This was a re-sorting feast, without the firsties all bunched up and nervous. There were nervous students but they were current students, students already wearing house colours.

Harry was sitting at the Hufflepuff table, beside Cedric Diggory and the two Triwizard Tournament Champions sat across from Susan Bones and her best friend Hannah Abbott. Harry hadn't expected to be seated across from two girls his age, given Cedric being older, he had expected to be sitting with friends of Cedric's that were his age.

The affable young man had originally invited him to do this back on the Yule Ball. Then, when he'd met with Madame Bones again, he had run into Susan and Hannah there. Amelia had met with just him at her actual home and then were joined by Susan and Hannah after their business was concluded. Harry wished that meeting had been more productive than being told they were still investigating and she would keep him updated when she could. Whether that was true or whether the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was unable to tell him anything, he wasn't fully sure. He was inclined to think she would let something slip to him but it was a just his gut feeling, no more.

The hall was the same, the food was probably the same but his status was different too. He wasn't a student at this time. He didn't _have_ to be here at all. He could be sitting with the twins, Katie, Alicia and Angelina, or even his former close friends, but he wasn't. This was a different Harry Potter getting ready for what should promise to be an amusing resorting.

Albus Dumbledore stood and commanded the attention of the room. His presence dominating and his hand grasped on the lectern.

"Welcome back staff and students." He casts his eyes slowly, deliberately over the hall canvasing everyone with bright blue eyes. "As you are all well aware, tonight is a momentous occasion in the illustrious history of Hogwarts. Never has the student populace had the opportunity to freely request resorting." He paused allowing tension to build within the room.

"The Board of Governors set criteria to define who is, and who is not, eligible." Though his face was partially hidden behind his long beard, and thick white moustache, he looked like he was sucking on a lemon, not content in the least at this course of action. He bore his eyes at the Board of Governors, who were standing on the far wall, making it clear who pushed this upon him.

His gaze now turned and sought Harry out directly. His sour look turning to glint amusement. Not good.

Any major media event Harry normally was informed about. His friend in the press kept him updated. She was not here. She had not informed him. Those few reporters that were here were not the ones he enjoyed taking questions from. This was a setup.

"Before we begin the alphabetical roll call of all those eligible for re-sorting to take their turn under the hat, I would like to highlight a returned student to our school." Dumbledore's line of sight made it abundantly clear who he was talking about, his gaze being followed so the entire hall was looking at Harry Potter.

"Harry Potter will be around our school and working with our faculty once more, attending classes as he wishes. And on behalf of the Board, we'd invite you, Harry, to begin our re-sorting this evening." When his amplified voice ended, he began clapping and soon the crowd joined in.

Harry stared back at Dumbledore, barely resisting his want to scowl. He had two options now. Make a scene or go along with it. He hesitated as he rolled the decision over and over in his head. Coming to a decision, he got to his feet and made his way to the stool. The hat had listened to him before and hopefully, it would now.

Harry kept his head held high and focus singularly on the hat and stool before him. The pressure of being the centre of attention no longer weighed on him as it once did. If he could dance with Natalia and steal the show with every eye upon him, he could sit quietly under an old hat.

He took the hat off the stool and turned around. Harry sat down on it and then placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

"_My, my, isn't this a wondrous event. Two sortings… Are you willing to take my original advice this time or shall I tediously go through your memories again to sort once as I do for all eleven-year-olds?" _The hat had no spoken aloud, it was talking directly to him within his mind.

"_I'd like to request something from you first if you don't mind."_ Harry started, hoping his plan would come to fruition.

"_And what foolishness would you request of me? I already put you where you wanted, against my better judgement." _The hat snarked back at his request.

Harry ignored the waspish response and kept with his plan. "_I was wondering, seeing as I'm not a student currently if you could withhold announcing my sorting until I am back next year if I'll even be back next year."_

"_And what are you doing that has you no longer as a student here? If you aren't a student, I shouldn't have a connection with you and I can feel that I have one with you…"_

"_Take a look, you said you could see my memories."_

"_Hmm… hmmm. My, my, you have been busy."_

It was an off sensation, his occlumency tutelage could sense there was some sort of intrusion but it didn't feel like what he'd read about. If he could allocate the feeling to some sort of specific action, it felt more like clothes shopping in a department store. Where someone was walking through the store and running their fingers over all the racked clothing. They weren't removing or altering anything, just merely coming into contact with everything.

He waited as the hat continued to hum and haw within his mind.

"_You are one of the few to ever gain access to Salazar's greatest work."_ The hat said after a time.

"_Was the last Tom Riddle?"_ Harry had no idea _how_ the hat might know the answer but the fact it was aware others had gained access to the hidden chambers made him ask.

"_Riddle, yes he was one of them but he has been revoked. You are the last of them being both alive and allowed within."_ The hat informed him.

"_How could one's access be revoked? Isn't is just necessary to open things up in parseltongue?"_

The hat scoffed at him. "_The chamber is Slytherin's greatest work, on the same level as Rowena's famed runic room. It is not simple parseltongue but a master's work of enchanting, charms, runes, wards, and most impressively soul magic."_

"_Soul magic?" _Harry hadn't heard of that before and immediately wondered what it was.

"_Yes, soul magic, magic pertaining to the soul." _He insultingly responded. "_You can be revoked if you are no longer deemed to be worthy of his chamber and the knowledge contained within."_

"_What types of things could deem me unworthy?"_ Harry wondered within his mind.

"_What made you worthy to begin with?"_ The hat countered immediately.

Harry sat back slightly, the questioned hadn't occurred to him. He was glad he had only slightly slipped back or he'd landed his arse on the hard stone floor. He readjusted to be more stable on the small stool.

"_Honestly, I am not sure why I was deemed worthy to learn,"_ Harry responded, silently imploring the ancient artefact to continue revealing information he had no way to know.

"_It won't matter if I tell you. If you are deemed unworthy, you lose more than just access to the fabled chamber. Salazar still controls his domain from beyond the grave. I can still feel and sense an echo of him just as I can sense you have a connection to the school. You're Salazar's apprentice, a potential heir to his legacy, one of many over the years to be afforded the opportunity. But, and this is an explicit warning, none have ever become his heir. All have fallen short and many with brutal consequences."_

The ominous warning did not ring hollow within his mind. Harry was already wary of the chamber. It was too convenient, the dragon ritual with the three fire-breathing reptiles arriving for the First Task was far too much of a coincidence. He already felt watched, judged, within the Chamber and now he had good reason to have always felt that. There was a mechanism of control, a way to determine if he was worthy or not.

"_The boy who wanted anything but Slytherin is now walking the path to try and become his heir, how ironic."_ It snidely remarked.

"_Hey, you try and be an eleven year old having just found out about magic then being told a Slytherin alumnus killed your parents and is evil incarnate and, as if that wasn't enough, meet Draco Malfoy and see him sorted there. Anything but there was the only logical response to that sequence of events."_

The hat hummed and hawed within his mind again, digesting the words before responding to Harry. "_The founders set criteria I am to follow. Young Mr. Malfoy does not belong in Slytherin on his personality alone… The house has all the wrong kind of students to what Slytherin himself would have preferred…" _The thought was left incomplete as the hat trailed off in his words.

"_What kind of rules? Could you consider me for houses other than Gryffindor or Slytherin?"_

The sorting hat was on Harry's head and he could not see it but he, just now, had the distinct impression it was smiling benignly at him. "_I look to sort the individual first and foremost. Then restrictions are placed upon me. You were to be sorted into Slytherin or Gryffindor as the first options. Had either of those not been satisfactory and you had made a major push for one of the other two houses you could have been sorted into either of them."_

That confused Harry. He had to ask, "_Why just those two options?"_ It didn't make sense to him.

"_Lineage is incredibly important to wizarding society. Much of the importance has been lost over time but I am a relic from the past. Families requested for lineage sortings to be a part of my enchantments. They wanted their descendants to take after a specific founder, whether that is being academically inclined or abrasively martial for example. Thus, you are the descendants of the Potters who have traditionally been sorted into Gryffindor and with your grandmother being a Black and therefore historically a Slytherin."_

"_So everyone is presorted by their lineage?"_ That kind of defeats the purpose of sorting if your family name automatically distributed you to a specific Hogwarts House.

The hat chuckled. "_It is far more complex but it is one of the stronger variables used to determine houses. Sirius Black was sorted into the antithesis of Slytherin, Gryffindor."_

"_Why was he sorted differently?" _Harry was rather curious about what the hat might give as a reason and surprised the hat was bringing up another person's sorting specifically.

"_You are the Black Regent and as such, entitled to certain information of members of the Black and Potter families. Sirius was like yourself, he denied his chance at being sorted there adamantly."_ The hat paused for a second before continuing. "_Every student who puts me on can be sorted to any house. It is far more likely they will follow their lineage than where they may be sorted. Children are impressionable and who they are at eleven is not who they will be at seventeen. Your friends and experiences at the school nurture who you become."_ The hat's voice was more solemn within his mind, more business-like.

"_Was that a warning for myself?"_

"_Perceptive, I see. Be wary of your path. All that have walked it have fallen, some further than others. I told you you could be great, it's all here in your head. I told you Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness and yet you chose Gryffindor. Do not forget that decision, do not lose yourself... Heh, after all these years it could be the heart of a Gryffindor that makes the cut ..." _The hat mused within his mind, refusing to stop even to listen to Harry's questioning what he meant, laughing instead.

Harry waited for the cackling to stop to ask his question, again, "_What do you mean 'don't forget my decision and the heart of a Gryffindor'? Stop being so cryptic and tell me!"_

The hat cackled a few seconds more. "_Impudent brat, that is for me to know and you to find out. It will make sense in the end, if you get that far."_

Harry sighed in disappointment. Straight answers were too much to ask for. Everything had to be a damn mystery, though this conversation had been enlightening.

"_What shall we do with you, Harry Potter? Are you going to request somewhere specific or listen to my decision this time?" _The tone was not impolite this time, far more amused than anything.

"_Will you accept my request, to not announce it?" _The hat had not answered Harry on that yet.

"_Tempting… and you are Salazar's apprentice... not a student. Yes, yes, I will accept if you allow me to select your Hogwarts House." The hat's voice turned feral here, "There are no rules for re-sorting. It's never been done and I can do as I please." _Whether Harry imaged evil cackling or it was just assumed that hat had done it he didn't know. The surprise must show on his face as he felt himself blink four times in rapid succession.

"_Will you tell me which house you will place me in before you decide?" _Harry asked the too-pleased hat.

"_No," _Harry cringed at the unfavourable answer.

Would he want to leave Gryffindor? Sure, things with him and Ron seemed unfixable, in the short term at least. Seamus and Dean were alright blokes but they weren't really friends. Neville… he seemed like a good guy. In short spurts, he seemed to break out of his shell and come alive but it was so infrequent. He could be a good friend or too shy to be a good candidate for a close friend.

Slytherin, nope, not happening. He wouldn't be a good fit with Draco, the quiet and just as sick in the head Theodore Nott. Draco's bookends were obviously not persons of interest to him and that left Blaise who was a blood purist himself and son of a known murderess.

Hufflepuff had Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Wayne Hopkins, Roger Malone, Kevin Entwhistle, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Megan Jones. Honestly, he really didn't know any of them. They were always sociable and polite in classes but he had never gotten to know them. He could pick them out by name and sight but the most interaction he really had with any of them, outside of class, was the past week with Hannah and Susan after meeting with Madame Bones.

Ravenclaw was almost as hopeless for him to make an educated opinion on. Terry Boot, Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein, Stephen Cornfoot, Oliver Rivers, Padma Patil, Lisa Turpin, Su Li. None of them was he really anything more than an acquaintance with. Ravenclaw was a house he had assumed he would never fit into. He wasn't the studious type. Well, he wasn't until he started learning from Salazar Slytherin. Now he could almost see himself as a natural fit there. Working away quietly on his work and wanting to discuss it with people. It was rather… odd.

That didn't help his predicament. For legacy reasons, he could understand wanting to be a Slytherin if he was able to walk the path the hat was warning him about. Harry had some thoughts on to what may have happened to some of the predecessors but they were nothing more than conjecture at this point in time. For social and political factors, Slytherin just seemed plain awful. That was before even considering his Head of House, the position of having direct authority over him, would be held by Snape, a man who loathed him for simply breathing.

No, Slytherin was still not an option. Not unless his tutelage became official. Even then, only if it became public knowledge would there be no downside. Gryffindor would still be good from a quidditch perspective. Fifth year with the team just needing to replace Wood, though they were hardly overpoweringly dominant.

Hufflepuff would have an opening with Cedric leaving and their quidditch team was surprisingly decent. Susan and Hannah were rather nice and he had no qualms formulating reasons to spend time around them. The guys had always seemed decent enough and worst case, he could spend time with just the girls. That just left Ravenclaw and honestly, he'd be fine there. Chang was their seeker but she was a good chaser... Realistically, he could make any of them work, some were just more advantageous than others.

The other aspect he was mulling over was he may simply choose not to return to Hogwarts. He could attend another school or finish it somewhere else. There was little reason he _had_ to come back to Hogwarts. Even Durmstrang could be a possibility. A day student like Natalia seemed somewhat appealing.

"_As amusing as your thoughts are there are other students for me to re-sort." _The hat broke into his inner thoughts.

"_All right, I'll take your deal. You sort me but don't announce it and I'll go wherever you want as long as you keep silent. Oh! One more thing, will you have to announce it next or will I, like, have to do this again?" _Not that talking to the hat had been anything but a boon tonight. Knowledge on the Chamber of Secrets was pretty close to priceless for him. Who knew if the cryptic would be useful too.

"_No, when you wear your own Hogwarts uniform it will automatically be your Houses' colours. You don't ever buy a Gryffindor uniform, do you?"_

Harry mentally smacked himself for not having realized that. Everyone got fitted for Hogwarts robes but nobody ever bought one specific to their house. He'd never realized that…

"_Thanks for the chat, Hat. Anything else you can tell me about Salazar, my apprenticeship or the Chamber of Secrets?"_ He doubted it but why not ask.

"_No, and good luck, Harry Potter. You will need it."_

**Better be….** The sorting hat bellowed out the two words and then trailed off. Shutting its mouth and going silent to the confusion of the assembled persons.

Harry took off the hat and placed it back on the stool. He gave the headmaster a genuine smile and was about to turn and walk back to his seat at the Hufflepuff table when he saw the moving lips on the Deputy Headmistress beside Harry.

"Mister Potter where were you sorted? Why didn't the hat announce it?" She was clearly distraught at such an odd occurrence. The hat had successfully trolled the collective audience with its build-up and following silence.

"Ah, well, you see, the Sorting Hat didn't announce it because I'm not a student right now and it feared announcing whether I was re-sorted or not may sway the opinions of those to come. So, everyone can find out if or when I come back as a Hogwarts student," he added the last part in a too cheery manner. He couldn't help himself, it felt great to have sprung whomever's plan it was to put him on the spot like this in front of those assembled in the hall.

"Do you know?" She asked him, concern shining in her eyes. Whether that was for the possibility of losing her seeker or a valued and cherished student Harry wasn't sure. It could have possibly been concern for having her beloved school made a mockery of again. The tightened lips formed a thin line displeased with this situation.

"Of course I do, we did talk in my head." He responded somewhat flippantly, the genuine smile trying to turn into a smirk against Harry's will. He didn't want to show his open pleasure, more nonchalance like this was always what he expected would happen.

He turned and stepped forward, once, to return to his previous seat when McGonagall asked another question. "Did you get re-sorted?"

A large grin sprouted on his face, he couldn't hide his glee when he answered, "Now that would be telling and where's the fun in that?" He practically floated back to his seat he felt so high on happiness from the results. Getting one over on Dumbledore was the icing on the cake but the real substance was the lead he had gotten on the Chamber. Soul magic. He'd never heard of it and there was an entirely new branch of magic to research.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The buildup to what many had assumed would be a great reshuffling was rather minimal. Very few students were allowed to be submitted for re-sorting and a handful of those had been sorted back to where they had expected to leave. Padma Patil had been resorted into Gryffindor along with Luna Lovegood, both leaving Ravenclaw. A number of students had left Slytherin leaving the house far more desolate than the other three. Lily Moon and Blaise Zabini had joined Ravenclaw and Tracy Davis was now a Gryffindor, surprising most when it was announced.

There were a few changes in every year with most of those approved were leaving Ravenclaw and Slytherin. If the whispers at the Hufflepuff table were to be believed there were multiple perpetrators of bullying punished in Ravenclaw and even more in Slytherin. The requirements for re-sorting were essentially for those with safety issues, like bullying and harassment. While seemingly countless students had applied to be re-sorted very few were allowed. Given the greater focus of comradery within the Lions and Badgers, it explained why Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had few, if any, resorting requests approved.

The sorting which had captured his attention the most was the direct result of his dinner at the Burrow. Fred and George were ecstatic with how it went down, no doubt the result of their betting pool. Though Harry wasn't quite sure of all the various types of bets they had taken in, the twin looks of glee evidenced how well they must have done. The two had talked up the reason that some males wanted to be sorted into Slytherin, namely, Daphne Greengrass.

While Harry didn't know the brown-haired girl at all, he was surprised when her name came up for donning the Sorting Hat. In any of the classes Gryffindor and Slytherin had shared she had sat on the Slytherin side, and always on the fringes. From what he remembered she'd kept to herself, and outside of classes and the Great Hall, he only ever saw her when he accompanied Hermione to the library. At least, that was what he could recall from what his spotty recollections recalled.

Looking almost as happy as the Twins, was the girl in question. Daphne had practically bounced as she skipped from the sorting stool to the Hufflepuff table while the collective students sat there with lowered jaws. She swiftly sat between Susan and Hannah, the two had made space and once she was seated they hugged the beaming Miss Greengrass.

"Told you I'd be here this time," Daphne chirped at her two friends. Susan and Hannah sandwiched her in a two-sided hug and squealed in excitement.

With wide eyes, Harry looked at Cedric, who was as bewildered at Harry was. "Did you knew they were friends?" Cedric whispered at him.

Harry shook his head, not expecting to see this sight before him.

"Have you met Daphne before Harry, Cedric?" A beaming Susan asked him.

He shook his head again, still not sure what to make of this.

He'd just had started getting to know Susan over the break and had no idea she was friends with the enigmatic former Slytherin.

"I, uh, haven't." He found his voice and turned to locked eyes with Daphne after he had responded to Susan's inquiry. "It's nice to meet you." He told her and gave her a pleasant smile.

"Nice to meet you as well, Harry." She shot him a warm look. "It's not like I could have before without having to hear Pansy's shrill shrieking about consorting with _Gryffindors" _She brought both of her hands to her cheeks and with a lowered jaw gasped in mock indignation. "Then her _shrieking_," Daphne shuddered theatrically, "would have brought along _darling Draco_ and we'd hear another rendition of '_My Father will hear about this...'_."

Seeing the puzzled look on Cedric's face she added a couple of examples. "You know, like when Moody turned him into a ferret for trying to curse Harry in the back," she paused and grinned at Harry, "'_my father will hear about this!"_ Daphne, Susan and Hannah all gleefully chanted at the same time. The three dissolved into a fit of giggles after their synchronized words.

Cedric looked at Harry, the look imploring him to explain but before Harry could say anything Hannah broke back in. "Potter made the quidditch team and is allowed to have his own broom!" She said in a pretty passable Draco impression, with whiny anger and outrage at the appropriate levels. "_My Father will hear about this!_" The three girls said the line in unison again.

"Ooo ooo, me next, me next!" Susan said bouncing in her seat. "That oaf, Hagrid, is teaching Care of Magical Creatures! _My Father will hear about this!_" Again all three said the familiar line. Harry couldn't help but laugh at their antics. He'd actually heard that line from Malfoy before.

"My turn again!" Daphne said exuberantly, revelling in her resorting. "Dumbledore gave his _golden boy_," she sneered the nickname in a _very_ well done Draco impression, "the House cup, again, this year! _My Father will hear about this!"_ More than one Hufflepuff joined the trio of girls this time, Harry even heard Cedric mumble it out loud.

"The plant tried to bite my finger off! _My Father will hear about this!"_ Hannah gave the premise for the repeated rendition that more of the table seemed to enjoy joining in.

"The moving staircase tripped me! _My Father will hear about this!"_

"Snape couldn't get me out of detention! _My Father will hear about this!"_

"Potter got the snitch again! _My Father will hear about this!"_

Susan, Hannah and Daphne spoke in turn, the three girls were rather practised at reciting the various quotidian reasons for Draco exclaiming why he needed his daddy's help. With those lines, the three girls were lost they were lost in a fit of giggles again.

Cedric had glanced around and saw the amount of attention it was drawing. "Ah, I get it now. I don't have much to do with Draco Malfoy but it seems you all do." He looked around at all the fourth years amused by their antics.

With a mischievous smirk, Cedric made sure to introduce himself to the newest Hufflepuff. "Welcome to Hufflepuff, it's nice to meet you, Daphne Greengrass. I'm Cedric Diggory."

"Shut it, Cedric, we all know you know me," Daphne said a little exasperated at the older boy.

"Not everyone, it seems Harry here didn't know you're best friends with Susan and Hannah outside of Hogwarts," he slung his arm around Harry's shoulder. "Thought I'd try and mess with him a little but you ruin all my fun!" He fake pouted at her.

The group must have missed whatever came after the sorting as food suddenly appeared in front of them. Apparently, none of them had noticed the headmaster had spoken.

The arrival of the food brought a lull in the conversation. It left time for Harry to be introspective. He'd found it was different around the Hufflepuff table but it was a nice different. He had enjoyed his time with Susan and Hannah, after meeting with Director Bones, and now spending more time them was great too. Harry wondered why he had never branched out before. There were lots of great people within the school beyond Gryffindor.

Had he really been so insulated in Gryffindor? Why had he always spent time with only Ron and Hermione, and really _just _them? Why hadn't he bothered even sitting with people from other classes? He'd never even tried studying with anyone else, but to be fair, he rarely had studied at all without Hermione nagging him. It's odd how stepping back can make things so clear. In all his time in Gryffindor, he'd been an idiot. There was so much more than coasting through classes, pissing away time playing gobstones, losing at chess to Ron, and playing quidditch.

Harry's ruminations were abruptly ended. He _felt_ something. It was magic? A spell? A ward? A fleeting moment of reclusivity, of privacy? It was hard to describe, it had just given him a feeling for a fraction of a second. He'd been trying to feel more but it was indistinguishable from Hogwarts' ambient magic.

After his night with Fleur, he had returned to the Hogwarts wards and been able to more competently pick out just what the wards had felt like. The sense of being home, which he always had on the carriage ride back to the castle, was the nostalgic feeling he had always connected with being at Hogwarts. It was that which he could feel now. Whatever he had felt had been drowned out by the castle, a feeling he truly loved.

He looked around, scrutinizing those around him, looking to see if someone had cast magic on him. His eyes met Susan's and he saw her elbow was protracted from her body. She moved her arm back to a casual position and addressed his unasked question.

"I cast a privacy spell, on the three of us, you and Cedric." She headed off the second question before he could do more than part his lips, "It will just keep our conversation private from everyone else while making it seem like it's all normal to those outside the spell." She beamed the last part, "Auntie taught me, we all know it too, maybe if you're good, I'll teach it to you too."

Harry nodded his head and Susan queued up the point of casting the spell.

"So Harry, are you going to tell us where the hat sorted you?" She asked batting her eyelashes at him, her bottom lip protruded, chin tucked down towards her chest, and her eyes as big and sad as she could make them.

Rolling his eyes at her antics Harry replied quickly, "Sure". He then continued on eating, working on emptying his plate as if that was the final word of his response. An elbow from Cedric forced him to look back up. Everyone around was staring at him. Thoroughly enjoying this, he feigned naivety. "What?" He did his best to keep up the facade and thought it was must have been convincing given the incredulous looks he was receiving.

"What do you mean what?! Tell us where you got sorted, you just said you would!" Susan demanded frustrated at the green-eyed boy's obliviousness.

"Sure," he replied again. He looked back down at his plate and forked some of his potatoes into his mouth. He was still acting as if he was clueless and so he slowly chewed his food, with his mouth closed, he wasn't Ron, and looked back up at the trio of girls across from him.

"Stop messing with Susan, Potter. You don't want to see a Bones angry." Daphne advised him, clearly not convinced by his act if her unimpressed posture with crossed arms was anything to go by.

Harry sighed in defeat and put down his cutlery. "You're right, I did say I'd tell you." He addressed a visibly calming Susan, Hannah was patting her back in a conciliatory manner trying to help defuse the situation. "But I didn't say _when_ I'd tell you." A megawatt smirk electrified across his lips. He couldn't help it. Teasing pretty girls was a fantastic habit of his now!

The collective groans were music to Harry's ears, even if the quartet was wholly unimpressed with him. He made a mistake glancing down at his food because he dropped his eyes down and failed to notice Daphne throwing her dinner bun at him. The bun sailed out of her hand and was aimed true. It hit him on his forehead.

"Hey!" He cried indignantly, "What was that for?!" A smirking Daphne the obvious culprit with her bookends both having a hand covering their mouth, poorly stifling their laughter.

"You're being a prat to my friend. You'd better expect retribution for it." Daphne glowered at him through her humorous enjoyment of what she'd just done. Her false frustration gave way to levity. "Merlin it feels good to not be such a stick in the mud." She said aloud. "Hufflepuff is great!"

Harry smiled, forgetting he should be upset for being hit in the head by a buttered dinner roll. He could well imagine it wouldn't have been all that much fun with the snakes. But, didn't she have any friends there? He voiced his thoughts, asking her, "Didn't you have some friends that you might miss in Slytherin?" He questioned carefully, he didn't want another dinner bun thrown at him! Starting a food fight at the Hufflepuff table on his first time there wasn't really in his plans.

Daphne looked at him forlornly. "Not really, Tracey and I got on but we both kept to ourselves, we were friends because who else were we to spend time with? Really, the only other option was Pansy, and _ewwwww_. Moon and Bulstrode are close, their families spend a lot of time together so my options were to be friends with Tracey or be a part of the Malfoy fawners, not much of a choice there."

Like him and Neville then. When all the other guys were busy they'd get on together just fine as friends but they really didn't have anything in common. He could well imagine if he was stuck around prats and Neville he'd seem chummy with Neville too.

"Are you telling me you don't dream of slicked-back blonde-haired tykes every day like Pansy wants? I mean can you imagine '_My Grandfather will hear about this'_." Susan barely contained her snickering before getting her teasing comment out of her mouth.

Daphne immediately rounded on her friend, her shoulders squaring up to her, and brought her free arm to heavily slap her friend on her arm. "Don't you _ever_ mention anything like that! That's- that's so, _so_ gross! Eww! Eww! Eww! A thousand times EWWWWWW!"

Hannah had dissolved into fits of laughter with Susan no better off. Daphne slapped Susan one, two, and then a third time in quick succession on her shoulder, though her hits sounded loud they were not actually vicious in the least. "I'll get you for that! Just you wait, _pigtails_," she said with a significant look at Susan, "and you, _brownie_," she shifted her glare to Hannah as she spoke of the chocolate confection.

Susan had immediately paled when she'd heard _that_ nickname and Hannah had quickly followed suit herself, when _that_ name was mentioned.

"We- we d- don't need to get into this now _goldilocks_." Hannah retorted, finding strength in her vocal cords as the sentence went on.

All three gave each other quick look over and, somehow, they simultaneously came to a decision on a peaceful end to the conversation. None wishing to escalate further.

The names confused Harry. Daphne had darker brown hair, not gold, nor blonde. Why would she have a nickname of goldilocks? Susan, he didn't think he'd ever seen in pigtails. She had auburn-red hair that flowed down past her shoulders but he didn't think it had ever been in pigtails at Hogwarts, though he could have simply been oblivious to it. Hannah, who had the blonde hair was called brownie? Did it have to do with the food?

Cedric wasn't asking and there was no way Harry was going to get involved in that. He decided it was best to get on with dinner and as he picked up his cutlery again. After a few bites where he was able to just eat his dinner in peace, Cedric pulled him back into the conversation.

"So, are you really not going to tell anyone if you were re-sorted or not?" he asked an eyebrow raised sceptically.

Harry shrugged. "I don't plan on it. Where's the fun in telling?" He smirked at the older boy as he responded.

"Don't be like that Harry, we want you here, in Hufflepuff! Wouldn't you want to spend time with all of us?" Susan asked gesturing to her two friends.

"Ya, what more could you want? A blonde, a brunette and a redhead." Susan jokingly added in with a wink and a sultry voice.

Harry blinked and shook his head. He might enjoy teasing pretty girls but he was learning there were times keeping your mouth shut was a very valuable skill. He shook his head and made it clear he's not getting anywhere near that conversation.

"You really won't tell us?" Hannah asked putting on her best cute pouty face.

Harry smiled softly. He leaned forward and kept his head level. The three girls and Cedric mirrored his action, they leaned in, as if a secret was about to be shared. When he had their full attention he gave them all a serious glance. Staring directly at Susan Harry enunciates the first letter, for three whole seconds, "Nope", he stated being sure to pop the p in an overly obnoxious manner.

Cedric didn't miss a beat bumping him with his elbow. "Arse." He stated without any real heat. Harry just grinned back at him, no longer leaning forward but slightly back on the bench seat.

"Is that how you want to play it, Potter?" Daphne asked dangerously.

"Yep," he replied, once more exaggerating the letter.

"Ooh, you're screwed, anytime Daphne gets that look, you're in for it, she's downright dangerous," Hannah said and covered her mouth with her hand as Daphne momentarily shifted her glare to her.

"So you don't want to tell us about your sorting, you wish to tease us about it." She arched her eyebrows with a vicious look on her face. "How about we talk about something less comfortable, how are things with you and Natalia, _Regent _Black?"

The surprise was obvious to all that were looking at Harry. "W- wh- what? How do you know about that?" Harry demanded to know after failing to hide his astonishment, he thought nobody would really know of that.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Daphne smugly retorted.

Harry ignored the gasps and whispered questions from the two other females and the other male within their privacy protected spell. He focused on Daphne trying to figure out how she could know. Of the Black family members left Bellatrix was in Azkaban, Andromeda was disowned, presumably unaware, Sirius wouldn't have spoken to her, which left Narcissa Malfoy and Madame Lacroix.

"You found out from the Malfoys?" He questioned as the answer dawned on him.

"No, they suspected but you have just confirmed," she told him excessively satisfied with herself.

Harry groaned, he'd been played. There was a reason she was initially sorted in Slytherin, he mused. He focused back on the four people around him and waited for the inevitable question.

Susan tepidly asked the question the others were wanting to, "You're a Black, Harry?"

"Daphne seems to know, why don't you tell them how you know and what you know." Harry didn't want to get caught up in revealing extra information, again, if he could help it. Better to get to hear from Daphne what she knows, or deduced, than provide his own info.

She gave him an apathetic shrug, "Sure."

"Harry's grandmother was Dorea Black. Sister to Arcturus Black, the last actual Head of the Black family, his son was thought to have been but he was never more than acting on behalf of the Black family."

Harry watched Susan, Hannah and Cedric, their reactions were a little guarded, like they were unsure of what to take of it. Even now the Black name meant something.

Daphne continued unaware of Harry's internal thoughts, "Those who are aware of the history of the Lacroix Ballet Academy would know they have always been supported by three families: Black, Delacour and Pavlov. Given Harry personally learned from Madame Lacroix, and came to the Yule Ball with Natalia Pavlova, it is an easy assumption he is connected to the Black family."

She stopped and let her words sink in. She daintily ate a little more of her dinner, during the pause, before continuing, "But that isn't quite enough to connect him to being the Black Regent." She said allowing a little suspense again, "But when you add Drivelling Draco into the mix you get to hear about how '_father_ wasn't able to make the french frog Lacroix teach him how to dance because he's not a full Black but she'd teach a half-blood like Potter'. This meant that Draco wasn't recognized as a Black and she wouldn't teach Narcissa Black's children so she wouldn't teach Dorea Black's grandchild unless he was recognized by the Black family as a Black. Naturally, following the inheritance norms that would make Harry ineligible to be the Head of the Black Family but he could be a Regent. Am I right, Regent Black?" She asked matter of factly.

Harry sighed, "Yes," he ran his hand through his hair, "Arcturus recognized me as a Black and ensured none of the other males that could try and claim the role of headship were allowed to. Leaving me as a Black in name, eligible to be the regent."

"Oh don't think you're getting off that easy," Daphne smirked at him.

"Huh?" Harry wasn't sure what else she could be going on about here.

"You didn't forget about the other part of my question did you?" She asked innocently. "Have the Pavlov's made their play for their youngest to birth the Black Heir? As the Regent and a Black, you could designate a child as a Black at birth and they could be the next head of the family."

Harry narrowed his eyes at her as she added in one final shot.

"I'm sure she's not the only one that would scheme for that right? The Black name still has power. I'd imagine there could be multiple girls that would vie for a spot in the Potter and Black families, and between the two, you're a burgeoning political power. Aren't I right, '_arry_?" She added a french accent to his name and glanced at the Ravenclaw table right after saying it, towards the Beauxbatons Champion.

Harry was less than impressed by the insinuation. One salient thought ripped through to the forefront. Hannah was right, Daphne is dangerous.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a single review caught the line of Natalia's last chapter 'Not like this. Not like this.' being reminiscent of Switch just before she got the cord pulled in the movie The Matrix. Switch literally says 'Not like this... Not like this.' There were comments about that scene and Natalia but nothing pointed that out.
> 
> I forgot to mention that I am trying to keep up with the proper Pavlov/Pavlova usage now. Had a couple PMs and reviews educating me on it.
> 
> There's the first look at Daphne, not a long scene. I had always planned for her to be brought into the fic at this point in time. I was suggested the resort and had teased it in previous chapters but as I wrote this chapter I deleted it and scrapped a larger resort. I realized after I had written the scene out that it really took away from the fic. As amusing as it was it detracted from the main plot, or, at best it doesn't add anything beyond word count.
> 
> This is a shorter chapter. I had another scene written but I didn't like it as a shortened version. 2-3k word version just wasn't that great and I didn't want a 15k word chapter. When this chapter gets beta'd I'll repost, last one too.


	18. A Slugtacular Interlude

The restaurant was less impressive than Harry had thought. For being a magical restaurant there was a distinct lack of _magicalness_. The waiter and staff had all been, well, muggle. If you changed their wizarding attire this could've been a muggle restaurant. They were seated at an ordinary table, drinking out of standard wine glasses and using cutlery like normal. For Harry's first time at a magical restaurant, it was disappointing.

He wasn't sure what he was hoping for. It's not like he was expecting a giant floating fish tank with an ongoing epic battle of grindylows versus sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their heads! Aside from that being an absolutely deadly idea, his expectations weren't off the charts here.

While the atmosphere was lacking, he hoped his meeting with Slughorn would be decidedly _not_. The two had settled in with mostly small talk of current events and pleasantries about the tournament so far, not that those were much different to their brief discussion at the Yule Ball.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet me, when you said we should meet so I could hear about my mother I was excited, nobody has told me much about her."

"Of course, I knew her well, as I told you she was a favourite of mine..." He trailed off, appearing to have difficulty putting his thoughts into words, as though something pained or hurt him to speak about Lily and Harry resolved to find out what it was, he wanted to know _everything_ about her.

"Did you have issues with her being a muggleborn student? You'd commented on it at the ball." He hadn't come off as an elitist who believed in purity of blood, like a Nott or Malfoy would, but the comment had seemed odd to Harry. Possibly a leftover resentment from Hermione's difficulties from the prejudice against her.

Slughorn's eyes narrowed, "Against Lily? No! And not anyone else!" He said affronted. "There is nothing wrong with muggleborn students." The laid-back man was irritated with reddened cheeks.

Harry leaned back in his seat when the man had raised his voice in response to his question. "Sorry! I hadn't meant to offend. I just don't understand why you commented about her status as a muggleborn student," Harry placated.

A visibly calmer Slughorn sat back and took a sip of his water. "Your mother's brilliance was all the more impressive due to the disadvantage that all muggleborn, or raised, students have."

That confused Harry, he wasn't fully comprehending what the man was saying.

Horace hummed in thought. "I thought your associating with the Pavlov and Delacour ladies would have helped. But I can see you're in the same situation your mother was in too. Albus has always been seen as the 'Champion' of the muggle-borns, of the half-bloods, but he is not. We clashed regularly because I would take the promising students under my wing and correct the issue."

"Where to start... where to start?" He asked rhetorically.

"Right now we are in a wizarding establishment. We are in England but two different countries reside within England. The muggle and wizarding worlds are distinct, separate and this of paramount importance.

"Muggle-raised often fail to understand this. They are in a new world, a new country, a new country, and there are different laws and ways of life. It is almost sad we don't speak another language, it would be intuitively understood then." He mused aloud.

"A different language? Why would that help?" Harry asked, scepticism lacing his words.

"When you go to another country with a totally different language you automatically understand things are, and will be, different. You question what you know and if you know anything about their culture, values, norms and way of life."

Okay, that made sense to Harry. But, it also did not seem significant, or at least not as significant as Horace was making it out to be.

"This but one of the many disadvantages muggleborn students have, they fail to recognize that they are in a different world. Wizards are not muggles who _just happen _to be able to use magic, you are _not _a muggle with an extra ability! No, you are now a dual citizen of two completely different countries!"

The man continued on without pause, he was worked up, impassioned even, with this topic. "More than that, you are like Captain Cook and Sir Francis Drake. You should be _explorers._ Explorers to a totally _new _world, an _alien_ world, and almost _none_ of you recognize this, the importance of it and how it affects you. It took me years to get this across to your mother. But in the end, she understood it, she embraced it and was better off for it. She was my prized pupil, the one who should have been the brightest of suns, not the fleeting shooting star she became." He finished with a remorseful tone and immediately took a healthy gulp of wine.

Harry wasn't quite sure he was getting the point still. He was aware there were differences between both worlds but he did not see why this was such a disadvantage, what were those drastic differences.

"Can you give me an example of that? Like something that proves she _really_ understood what you are saying." Harry clarified his question.

Slughorn raised his eyebrows at the question before a smile formed. "Oh ho, I have just the one! Do you know your parents' history together at Hogwarts?" he asked, pleased with the question.

Harry frowned in response, he'd heard the same from everyone. "I heard from two of my father's best friends how it happened. That my mother didn't get on with my father until near the end of their time at Hogwarts. They started dating and were engaged then married shortly after." He recalled hearing from Remus and Sirius about it, how they'd teased him for years about his infatuation with Lily Evans. Then they'd been merciless when he finally got with his long time crush.

"Two friends?" The former potions professor asked with narrowed eyes and a gleam of intelligence in his eyes. He paused, shook his head quickly, and took the slow blinks before saying something, "No, mustn't get sidetracked, we'll come back to that." He said the last part sternly, eyes boring into Harry's.

Harry was trying to keep himself calm, to keep his face from going red and not look shocked by the comment. He may have just given his godfather away, though the lack of freaking out would indicate there was a dangerous intelligence he'd underestimated within the man. He may be unassuming in his old man sweater vest, the portly look and his dopey eyes but he was far from what he presented. He was sharp, astute, _shrewd_.

"Back to it, the stories you've heard are from close friends of your father and those who know things about your parents but did not know them overly well, I presume?" He asked, though the way he asked he already knew the answer.

"That would be a fair description," Harry responded neutrally.

"If you will listen to a story, really listen, not interrupt and contrast it with what you've been told then I will tell you of your mother, the reality of who she was, I dare say, there is none left lingering in our world who would know of it, other than I." The harshness of the statement brought a distasteful air about the man. He readily gulped down the rest of the wine and then filled it again, taking another drink too large to be characterized by a sip.

"I'll listen," seeing the raised eyebrow, he reassured further, "really listen," he added earnestly.

"Lily Evans came from an unassuming background, red of hair and bright, so very bright." He spoke wistfully.

"A muggleborn whose sister was her best friend. A best friend that doted on her younger sister, Lily, and the two were inseparable. Inseparable until she was visited by a representative from Hogwarts. Like all meetings it is just the parents, representative and the child in question. From the very start, the two flowers were separated. Petunia left to toil alone without her Lily. Lily plucked from the garden, her home, and was thrust into a new reality." Slughorn grimaced then. "Thus, the separation from her family began. Petunia upset her sister was going to be leaving her, or I surmise it was so, began to lash out, be nasty and belittle her little flower. The Lily she'd always befriended, loved and looked out for, she sought to punish."

"Lily sought seclusion and time to ponder what she had done to upset her big sister so. One fateful day she meets her neighbour, a child her age. A boy black of hair and a kindred spirit, a lonely boy. Estranged from his family, he stayed away from the combative atmosphere, or so I was told, and the two became friends, not for much more than seeking the company of another individual. She was a witch and he a wizard, it didn't take long for that to be learned, between them, and a friendship was born, Lily Evans and Severus Snape, the newly formed best of friends."

Harry gasped. "Snape and my mother!? Best friends?!" The outburst slipped out of his mouth before he'd even realized he'd said something.

Horace placed his glass of wine down on the table. He slowly tore his eyes away from it and looked up at an incredulous Harry. He raised an eyebrow, "I'll listen, really listen?" He asked, quoting Harry's earlier words with disdain.

Harry flushed, a little, in embarrassment, ducking his head and tightening his eyes. "Sorry" he added with regret.

The aged man picked up his wine glass again twisting it between his thumb and forefinger. The deep red liquid swirled around the glass catching both parties attention. Horace watched the lines form as the wine returned to its resting position now that the glass had stopped twirling. He sipped at it slowly, drawing out the suspense as to whether he would continue talking or not while Harry's unease built second by second.

He returned the wine to its resting position, while still holding it, and brought his attention back to Harry. "Lily and Severus became close friends shortly before coming to Hogwarts. They sat on the train together and were highly disappointed when they were sorted into opposing houses.

Their unfortunate circumstances grew from there. Sirius Black," the name noticeably drawing Harry's attention, "joined the red and gold. His family took this poorly, including his older cousins, all of them Slytherins. Andromeda wasn't nasty to him but Bellatrix and Narcissa were, they encouraged people to show their displeasure as well, I'm sure of that, always strictly off the record of course," he sighed and got lost in his thoughts twisting his wine glass again, swirling the liquid.

"Sirius was fast friends with your father, eventually Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew too. When Sirius was targeted by older Slytherins they fought back the only way they could. They pranked the first year Slytherins. There was no kindness between the houses and with the Black scion in Gryffindor, it escalated, it was personal. We talked about it in staff meetings and were always given the same direction, we were always told, '_let them be children, it's all harmless'_.

"Severus was a target Slytherin schoolboy, a loner, who befriended a Gryffindor girl, a pretty one at that. That is not to say he was not blameless himself; Snape gave as good as he got, escalating the feud.

"Now, your mother, she wasn't a shy girl, she stood out. Fiery long red hair, outspoken when prodded, and she could hold a grudge, oh ho, could she ever. From the first class they were partnered together it caused waves. Over that first year, she became an outcast for befriending a Slytherin and Severus was much the same, though not to the same degree. Lily never took part in the back and forth and was never targeted by either house, at first. Your mother had one female friend she was close with, in Gryffindor, Marlene McKinnon. But let me continue and not get lost in old memories."

"The two shone early in potions, always partnered together. They were a remarkable duo and spent significant time working to improve or perfect things, the margins of their books were always full of helpful scribbles. They received perfect marks and both were talented with a wand, Severus towards the darker side and Lily, well, she just had an intuitive understanding of magic, it came as naturally to her as breathing. She could adapt charms even in third year, her OWL year she presented altered spells, improved formulae and mastery level potions." He reminisced fondly, his gaze dropping back to his wine with his eyes having a faraway look.

"Err, Horace," Harry said to get his attention, "if that's true, why were her grades not as vaunted as mine? Did she not score with Dumbledore and Riddle? Were there many students that have scored as I, or we, have?" Harry asked, a little reserved, he'd already interrupted but thought it was a fair question, not an interruption.

Slughorn focused back on him, "She did not match those grades, overall. Your mother was _intuitive, _not knowledgeable in the way many in academia are so as to be called brilliant. She didn't have exhaustive theory memorized to ensure her marks were flawless. She loved magic, she loved pushing its boundaries and being creative with it. Don't let these words dissuade you, she was among the top-scoring academic students, she was Head Girl after all, but she cared not for achieving marks. Such a shame she was stolen from us, she was too talented for that dreadful end," Horace swallowed hard, abruptly downing his wine. He took a moment to collect himself again.

"Fifth year was the start of the estrangement that grew between them. You-Know-Who began his tyranny and people started noticeably disappearing. There had been unrest and rumours of a Dark Lord since 1970 but it took time to ramp up hostilities. Snape was stuck with a muggle-born friend in a hated house and a pureblood crowd supporting their parent's pro-pureblood agenda. Lily was not immune any longer when things became nastier. Sixth year Marlene McKinnon's family was targeted and that drove a wedge between them. Marlene refused to be around Severus, since he was friendly with the side that had gone after her family. Lily could not tolerate his excuses when she had become a target of his friends and Marlene's parents by theirs.

"Sixth year their friendship ended, permanently. Marlene's family was murdered, brutally so." He closed his eyes with his eyelids trying to force their way through his face. "Those were rough days…" He said after a time, his voice rough and gravely. He refilled his wine glass, again, and took a deep drink before refilling it once more, not even half a bottle remained now.

"It was then that the real point of this story comes. Your mother was lost, the magical world was alien to her, she had such little understanding of what was going on, where her place in the world would be. Her family could not help, they were muggles whose only experience with magic was Diagon Alley and whatever Lily was able to show and tell them."

"It's the problem with muggleborn, and raised," he added, nodding at Harry, "they don't understand the culture, the history and how our world works. I took her under my wing then, she was my dearest student," he added forlornly. His cheeks were gaining a red tinge and some of the sharpness in his eyes had slipped away, the man was by no means drunk but their food had not come and he'd had a fair amount of wine so far.

"I taught her history, economics, politics, and she took to it like a fish to water. She understood the world and her place in it, her lack of backing. Talent will not get you far on its own. It was the following Summer where she made a decision, one she was uncomfortable with at the time but I _know_ she wouldn't have changed." He paused and gave a knowing smirk to Harry.

"What did she decide?" Harry knew he was playing into the man's theatrics but he wanted to know too badly to stay silent. He was on the edge of his seat, leaning forward, and wouldn't have noticed much beyond the next words to come out of the older man's mouth.

"She signed an agreement with House Potter." He stated, smirking at the look of surprise that Harry couldn't keep from adorning his face.

"An, an, an agreement?" He asked, not knowing what to make of that at all.

"Yes." The elder man was enjoying this, he was still smirking at the Triwizard Champion.

"Wh-, wh- what kind?" Harry's mouth wasn't closing fully when he wasn't speaking, his mind was running a thousand miles a second trying to make sense of these words.

"A courtship contract." He stated as if it was simple bland words.

"What?!" Harry's surprise had an equal measure of disbelief in it bringing the word shooting out of his mouth, almost to the point of him having shouted the word out. "No way!"

Slughorn had a look about him, the very same look found on a cat feasting on his caught canary, "I advised it and it was a total secret."

"Why? Why would she need to do that?" He asked, his forehead creased and cheeks contracted.

"Several reasons," he started out casually, "one of the main concerns was the magical protection of her family. Muggleborn parents had no real defence against Death Eaters and having a family like the Potters would ensure their protection was a primary goal of the arrangement."

Harry nodded, understanding that a seventh-year student did not have the funding or knowledge to ensure adequate protective measures to be setup.

"Then there was Lily's future to think of. She wanted to keep learning and pushing the envelope in understanding magic, all types of it. The Potter's are an old family with centuries of knowledge and, at that time, were more than wealthy enough to fund her continued studies for the rest of her natural life. There were many terms in the agreement but I'll give you the basics.

"For six months they would date and if neither side called it off it would turn into a betrothal, announced or unannounced, it mattered not. Within two years of betrothal they would marry and within five years an heir must be born, with honest attempts beginning no later than three years past the betrothal. Your mother's family would be protected magically and financially supported in case they were unable to work due to their protection. Lily's research would be generously funded and she had almost unhindered access to the Potter and their allies libraries. Those were the basics. Economic support, protection for her family and setting out the future for herself and future family."

"My mother married James Potter for money and access to libraries?" He asked, hoping it was a lie. Sirius and Remus hadn't told him anything like this. His mother was not so shallow, was she? Protecting her family was a noble action but marriage for that?

Slughorn's demeanour softened and his voice grew gentle, "I know she didn't love your father when they were engaged and I don't think she loved him when they married; but, it is my belief, she did grow to love him. Of course, our correspondence broke when hostilities grew too heavy. Your parents went into hiding right after graduation and we had very little contact then. I'm telling you this not to say your parents didn't love each other, because I believe they did, but to explain how pragmatic Lily was, especially for a muggleborn."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond to that. So he didn't; he kept his mouth shut awaiting to hear more, he doubted Horace would have liked him interrupting at this point too.

"The magical world is _not_ the muggle one. People do business with their friends and the wizarding community is small, comparatively. People hire friends, friends of friends, or even children of friends. They marry off as part of politics, economics and love. The muggle ideal of being a self-made-man is a _fallacy _for wizards and witches. Anyone can learn to be a decent wizard, everyone can find gainful employment but to go beyond that? To set yourself apart, to learn the lore of magic from the greatest minds of the previous generations? No, muggle-borns don't have that. They aren't raised with magic from their crib, they don't understand the nature of magic, the laws governing the _wizarding world_, and they are lead astray by their _muggle_ _sensibilities," _he sneered the final two words.

Harry sat thinking it over. If it was true, that his mother had signed a contract he could understand.

"The greatest wands are never self-made. There is no great Albus Dumbledore without his apprenticeships in Transfiguration and Alchemy by the very top master in the two fields. His discoveries in alchemy were all due to his apprenticeship with Flamel, the greatest Alchemist there ever was. His prodigal skill in Transfiguration? A gift from apprenticing his Transfiguration Master. Don't get me wrong, he is skilled, almost beyond belief, in magic, but without the knowledge to learn Alchemy from the greatest there ever was? To learn Transfiguration from the Transfiguration Master of his generation? He would be skilled, he would be good, but he would not be the famed figure that is Albus Dumbledore, it was his academic and wanded prowess that got him those opportunities but without them, he is not the living legend we know today." The sincerity of belief was carried by his fervent tone.

Slughorn sat forward in his chair, his voice lowered and his eyes were shining with purpose. "Our world, Harry, is more alike to the muggle feudal world than modern muggle one; to divorce yourself from a muggle mindset, to understand the importance of alliances, the necessity of playing political games, and the foundation that families are in the wizarding world is not so easy. You weren't raised to understand it, you were taught different ideals, norms, traits and to divest yourself of them, to change your identity, your way of thinking, it is a tall task. So few ever do, but Lily, your mother, she did. It took a war, a shattered friendship and the loss of her closest friend's family for it to truly hit home for her, but it did."

"This is a lot to take in, especially for an orphaned young man like yourself and yet, I can't just let this be. You have untold opportunity in our world, you have connected with powerful families and your magical potential is exceptional. Let me help you on your way to greatness, let me help you as I did for your mother; I can teach you the background information you need, I'm well connected and can mentor you. I wish to do this as a favour to my favourite former student, as this could be my last chance at redemption.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Un, deux, trois.

Un deux trois.

Un deux trois.

Un deux trois, at least this time he could switch at the right time.

Ever since Lacroix had harped on him, incessantly counted to three in French, in his head, he couldn't break the habit of counting in threes. It didn't even make sense. He was supposed to stir clockwise four times and then counterclockwise four times. Counting in threes didn't make any sense, only every fourth iteration worked! It was just like trying to learn the ridiculous musical theory for 3:4 timing. Three beats per measure but there are four parts to it? It never made sense; if only Dudley had not destroyed all his music notes...

Not that any of this mattered with the results he was achieving. Really, he was just having errant thoughts to keep his mind occupied while he was learning how to better brew potions. Here he was brewing a technically arduous potion and, on his first try, it was going exactly as it was supposed to, or so Harry thought. If he went by the exuberant expression on Slughorn's face, err… Horace as he'd been asked to call him, he didn't think any different.

He'd been at it for four straight hours now and the actual brewing work was just about to complete. Difficult distillation was still required but he wouldn't be taking care of that. Horace would look after completing the potion.

"Oho! Excellent Harry! Simply marvellous! Such talent, just like your mother." The retired Potions Master beamed at him.

Harry couldn't help but feel gratified at the man's praise. He might be a total suckup for those with talent, power, and prestige but there was no denying he was a celebrated master of his craft. He was no longer pursuing research himself but he was still at the forefront and his opinion sought after.

After the dinner in which Harry had learned more of his mother, following his offer of mentorship, he'd agreed to return to the man's home for a potion's lesson. Through general discussion at dinner, Harry had told him he was improving on his own and then the man half demanded half wanted to know by how much he was progressing, compared to his mother, so they went to his home and Slughorn had him brewing by seven. It had been quite an unexpected dinner with this twist at night. His goal had been to learn more of Tom Riddle but it hadn't felt like the right choice of topics. A gut feeling that he would be making a mistake pressing the man for it. Instead, unexpected fruit had been borne; potion lessons and an opportunity to learn from the man if he so chose.

Slughorn might be, well, a slug, gross and slimy, nevertheless, slugs are still an important part of an ecosystem, they have their uses, even if they aren't the most pleasant to be around. Harry was going to treat him like that. He might play a pivotal part in his ongoing development or he might not, it was yet to be seen. While the possibility was there, he would be sure to not misstep in their burgeoning association. He knew he'd probably even end up doing some favours for the man but he'd also gain in the exchange. There was already fruit born of their time together. He knew more about his mother than he'd learned in the previous years of his life. Finding out her final close friends had died made sense. Marlene McKinnon murdered in the war and Alice Longbottom in the long-term care ward, Alice becoming a close friend through Frank and James' friendship.

"Thanks, and thanks for this too, it's great learning from you, the best potion lesson I've ever had." He could see how learning from Horace would have made his time in the dungeon a whole lot better, he might even had come to like potions. Merlin wasn't that was a weird thought.

The teaching by Salazar had been good and he'd always suspected he was better than his previous grades but it was just so hard to care about the class. Snape was always going to give him a horrid mark, and do his best to crush his spirit, so what was the point of even trying? He'd not been able to come up with a good answer for that. If he'd really needed something to do with potions he had Hermione to ask, a lazy attitude, sure, but it worked. Now though…. He had not hated brewing the potions for rituals and this was kind of fun, rather useful as well.

"I knew Severus was such a talented potioneer but I always had my doubts that the boy could teach, he never had the personality nor patience for children… but given your talent…." He trailed off muttering while carefully observing Harry's stirring.

"Err… you weren't wrong…" Harry let him know, uncertain it was a good idea to burst his bubble.

"No?" He questioned a bit dopey eyed.

Oddly the look reminded him of Dobby for some reason. He suppressed a chuckle, maybe it was just getting late… He blinked away the stray thought and answered the elder man. "He's marked me between dreadful and troll mostly, though I think I got a poor once or twice, and he's hated me since I stepped into his class the first time, he even glared at me during the welcoming feast in my first year, now that I think about it." He scratched the back of his neck, not forgetting to keep up his counting, un deux trois….

"Not with your innate talent, surely not!" He exclaimed, it was a little hard to tell if the red tinge to his face was in anger or from the casual and continued drinking of wine at this point, the man wasn't blind drunk or anything but he'd certainly had a few cups.

Harry gave an eye smile, "He never liked me and never punishes the students from his own house. If someone threw something into my cauldron he'd ignore it and fail me for having brewed a ruined potion. After three years of the same, I'd given up on Potions. Really, not since I started self-study did I actually become decent."

Was he still upset at Snape? Not quite as much now. He understood his mother and Snape were close. If Slughorn was correct, and he assumed he was, then Snape would have hated his dad and all those comments about him being like his father now made sense. He's still an utter bastard for taking something out on him that was leftover from his parents but what was he to do about it? Snape was a spiteful, pitiful man. He seemed to hate his own existence, not to mention everything else too. That was punishment enough, why hate and try and get payback when the man was a broken shell of one already. He was torturing himself enough, living in the past, if the mere appearance of a schoolyard rivalry was still causing this much ire.

"A shame… a total shame. Her talent but your father's looks… we can't have that." Having made up his mind Slughorn straightened out of his musings and clapped his hands together, almost startling Harry out of his irrational french counting.

"It can't be! Your mother never got the chance to flourish but you will!" He'd morosely mentioned Lily but finished and started his sentence with aplomb.

"Err… what do you mean Horace?" That still felt odd to say, calling a professor, even a retired one, by his first name, like they were friends.

"I'll tutor you in Potions too! By the end of the year, you'll be NEWT level, or beyond! I'll apprentice you and we'll let the press know just how good you are, thanks to my tutelage, of course." He belly laughed as he finished, his eyes alight with the prospect, a more boisterous and disturbing response than Harry had wished for but help in another class...

"Thanks!" He tried to smile believably even if he was internally cringing. He loved learning about his mother but the man loved to toot his own horn. "I'll let you know once I've decided."

"Jolly good!" He exclaimed and in his excitement, not to mention his inebriated state, he stumbled forward when he tried to offer his hand to Harry, to seal the arrangement between them. Harry was able to grab his upper arm and stead him as he stumbled forward.

"Are you alright?" He asked, helping push the man back fully upright.

"Yes, yes," he said regaining his balance, "But, maybe we should sit, another cup o' wine too…" He mumbled the last part, loud enough that Harry could easily make it out.

Slughorn ushered Harry out of the room where his potion was brewing after he negligently flicked his wand out and did something to the brewing process.

He led them through his lavish home. Pictures of him with various individuals littered the hallway. Harry caught sight of a quidditch play in full uniform and a younger Slughorn. A young dark-skinned witch clutched her broom and beater bat beside the younger version of him, they were both grinning ear to ear.

Horace noticed Harry's eyes linger on the photo and stopped their descent down the hall. "That's Gwenog Jones, Holyhead Harpies beater and captain." He stated pompously. "I introduced her to the manager and this was taken right after she signed her first professional contract with them. She always has tickets for me, a whole box if I requested it." His eyes gained a glint that made Harry uneasy.

"Yes, we should go! You're quite the seeker too, aren't you? Holyhead is an all-girls team, don't ya know," he elbowed Harry, thinking it was somewhat humorous. "I could invite Lynch too, Krum might have embarrassed him but he's a top-quality seeker, a good chum too, owes me for the bit of potions work I did for him… yes that could work..."

Harry watched as the man seemed lost in a daze muttering to himself.

"Barnaby could come... Adrian, Gwenog, Barnabus, yes, yes.. just a few more too… fill the whole box…"

There may not be any monetary compensation for this but being dragged around to events that seemed more political and showing him off than anything didn't sound appealing. If only the guy wasn't such a great opportunity for him. He'd already learned quite a lot tonight and that's without even counting that he learnt he's been stirring a little too quickly and dipping too far into the potion with that specific stirring method. Different methods and patterns required precise movements, which he was already aware of, but not doing perfectly. Harry figured he could become a competent brewer from Salazar's notes and supplementary texts, but Slughorn could teach him to be an excellent one. More than likely, he'd never be a prodigy like Severus Snape, or his mother, but he had no plans to go into research nor mastery studies in potions.

Slughorn had started walking, lost in his thoughts and planning, and had taken them to his living room. He sat himself into an armchair that was form fit for him after years of generous use.

With a flick of his wand, another bottle of wine floated to him, he uncorked it and had it pouring into his no longer empty glass. The casual display of magic floored Harry, mentally. It wasn't that this was some kind of groundbreaking magic or anything like that. It was the ease of the fine control and manipulation, even after the man had been well into his cups. The man didn't have all his wits about him, he was still muttering and even then his magic was strong, resolute and, above all, precise. It was second nature to him, from the repeated nature of that specific task, and that was the point.

A lot of what Harry did in his day he did as a muggle. He tied his own shoes, physically. He made his bed with his hands, he brushed his teeth, scrubbed himself in the shower, and so on. All those minute tasks could be done by magic. Sure he had gotten into the habit of summoning books but what about turning pages, holding it, and positioning it on his desk. The adage 'practice makes perfect' wasn't lost on him. The opportunity for enhancing his capabilities was immense.

This could be one of the best lessons the man may ever give him.

Every mundane exercise could be learning to exercise his intent, his willpower, his creativity and refining his magical power.

Harry returned from his epiphany and caught the man's attention before asking him a question that could help him immediately. "Sir, is there a difference between basic veritaserum and what is used for questioning?"

"Horace, my dear boy, Horace. You may learn from me but we will be friends, not master-apprentice, you already have an apprenticeship," he lightly reprimanded Harry. "But I digress, yes, there is quite a difference as the basic veritaserum is a potion that only allows a person to speak _perceived_ truths whereas the one used by the DMLE has a babbling potion mixed into it forcing the person to respond at the questioners prompts," he chuckled", though they often get more than they bargained for."

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned further.

"Well, when one is questioned and they have ingested even a mild form of babbling potion they often add things beyond the scope of the question. For example, say you are being questioned by the DMLE and they ask you what you know of Albus Dumbledore you would divulge anything you perceived as true about the man. You would say things like he is the Headmaster of Hogwarts, he is Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, he is old, he has a long white beard, he has outlandish fashion sense in robes, he likes tart sweets, and so on and so forth. You see the point now?"

Harry nodded. "The babbling potion would influence them to speak of things that the questioner has no interest in," Slughorn beamed at him. "But what do you mean by perceived truths?" He tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows as he spoke.

"Ah, the downside of veritaserum. Calling it a truth serum is a misnomer; magic can do many wondrous things but it has limitations. The truth serum cannot give the ingester knowledge. If they have a factually wrong belief, they can state it as if it were a truth as long as they fervently believe it to be true. A Chudley Cannon supporter could delude themselves into believing they are among the favourites to win the Quidditch league whereas any neutral observer would tell you it could only ever happen if something like every other team is simultaneously struck down by lightning, making the Cannons the winner by default."

Harry laughed fully understanding the joke as Ron had always insisted they had a chance each year before going on to have another horrid losing season. "So if someone believes something is correct they can say it under truth serum but it doesn't change the fact that their belief is wrong?"

"Exactly so." He praised him again, reddened cheeks pulled into another large smile.

"Is Veritaserum used for criminal trials then?" Harry asked while wondering himself.

"No." He shook his head, "It isn't. The benefit for law enforcement is to ensure the person says what they believe to be true. In conjunction with the babbling potion they learn _everything_ that they believe to be true. Thus the issue still stands, is their testimony correct or not?"

"The testimony under veritaserum is not absolute. Just like with Pensieve memories, things are not always as they seem. Further, getting authorization to use veritaserum on anyone unwillingly requires approval from with Wizengamot. With the babbling potion addition it is so rarely approved because it can cause unrelated secrets to be given up and nobody would want to be in that position. Only in rare circumstances is it permitted to be forced on someone."

"Oh, that makes sense…" Harry responded, thinking more on how Natalia had given him correct information about the potion and was voluntarily willing to use the normal version.

"Would people use standard veritaserum to try and trick the courts?" He asked, thinking again of Natalia and her offer.

"Why yes of course they do!" Slughorn rumbled his response out. "The reason the babbling potion was added was because the chance of deceit without it is too great. Telling a partial truth and purposefully withholding aspects of it can paint a very different picture from the reality. Questions need to be direct and have limiters, qualifications and often require special knowledge to be effective. Many prosecutors try and cage them into responding with only the options of yes or no."

"So they don't ask them to speak about something, like 'What do you think about ice cream?', for instance, instead you would ask: 'Do you like ice cream?'", Harry put his inner thoughts into words.

"Yes… that is the general idea but your example may not be specific enough, the cage too broad. They could answer no they do not like ice cream thinking of a flavour they do no like or yes they love it even if they do not as long as there is some truth to it." Slughorn explained further.

"Would it work for something like: Do you like Chocolate Chip ice cream?" Harry asked, trying to flesh out any chance at misunderstanding this valuable insight.

"No, no no. Not quite," Horace chuckled. "Even more specific, you'd want to ask even more specifically: Do you like Haagen-Dazs' brand Chocolate Chip Ice Cream? If it wasn't specific they could think of a brand they have not tried and honestly answer they don't like it, as they have not tried it, leaving that bit out.

Harry sighed, "I can see how it would be troublesome. On the surface it seems so simple. You force someone to say only truthful things but the reality of it is far more complex. It can be a useful aid, but only in the right circumstances."

"Indeed, my boy, indeed. Well done." Horace affused him with approval.

Harry smiled back at him in thanks for the genuine praise. He saw the man look far away, his mind elsewhere.

"Smarter than I'd first thought... Less naive in some ways, and more in others... Grades mediocre, mostly, until this year... Dormant talent that is so very reminiscent, both parselmouths... Magical but muggle raised, average until OWLs, surrounding themselves with powerful families, and such potential… why Tom, why?" He drained the glass and used his wand to pour another, right away.

Harry listened carefully. He doubted the man would have ever said anything like that if he hadn't consumed so much wine.

"Horace, could you tell me about the Potter and Black families?" If the man was saying he could help on the economic and political side then he wanted to see what kind of help he could be. With alcohol loosening his tongue it could be helpful. The man hadn't seemed less sharp even with all the wine.

"Black? Oh right, Sirius Black! We were going to talk about him!" Slughorn asked, perking up.

"We were?" Harry asked, internally cringing, he'd forgotten near the start of their dinner he'd screwed up and mentioned two of his father's friends.

"Why, of course! Two living 'best friends' of your fathers that know about him and your mother? While Monsieur Delacour knew the Potter family they were not especially close. Given the war at the time, France was distancing itself and I'd wager their friendship was maintained in the way of an owl. So he would not be a source, but that is not a wholly compelling argument." Even with glassy eyes, a sharp glimmer had returned, his wits had not been fully dulled by the alcohol just yet.

"Your father had few friends. Those he did have were fiercely loyal and they were like brothers in him. He was an only child and with the closeness of his Hogwarts friends you'd be hard-pressed to say he did not understand what it was like to have multiple brothers. Specifically Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Those four bonded from the first day of Hogwarts and drew closer all the way to their last."

His grin grew predatory, "It is from this that I can infer who the two are. Peter Pettigrew is long dead, Remus Lupin was your professor last year; the same year Sirius Black was a fugitive at large. Here we are, over a year later, and the manhunt for Sirius Black has by and large been dismissed. Most shockingly after he had _successfully_ broken into Hogwarts and later been captured. The result? He escaped custody of the minister within _Hogwarts_. I may have aged, I may be into my cups but there is nought you could do to convince me that Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, did not have a hand in Sirius Black escaping custody with his life. I already know he was behind the push to quiet the man-hunt."

He sat back in his chair, heavily, both arms perched on the armrests. He raised his glass in a toast, "A toast to Sirius Black, the unscrupulous scoundrel, the innocent fugitive, and, most importantly, the _godfather_ of Harry Potter." He drained the rest of his glass and sat in his chair the epitome of smug.

Harry sat there blank-faced, eyes wide. He sat there stunned and doing his best to work out how Slughorn had figured it all out. He was probably told about Sirius being his godfather. The innocent part was the more difficult issue. Why guess when he could just ask?

"My mother told you about him being the godfather." He stated. Slughorn nodded slowly twice and gestured for him to go on.

"I understand why you'd believe Dumbledore was involved if you knew he also had the manhunt suppressed, I'd not considered nor put together the fact he was no longer posted all over everywhere wanted dead or alive. In fact, the newspapers have had little to say on him, aside from the after events of the Quidditch World Cup," he stopped and rubbed his chin in thought.

"You're doing well. You are thinking and making connections but you are out of your depth here to put it all together. Sirius Black is innocent and has been since his _lack_ of trial. He held the smoking gun and he was such an easy scapegoat. This is why I tell you politics is important, you _must_ learn them."

Harry nodded and stared back, he knew the man well enough by now to know he was about to be given more information. Slughorn _loved_ to talk.

"Barty Crouch was the head of the DMLE back then. Black's lack of trial followed right after Igor Karkaroff informed the Wizengamot that his son was in a Death Eater cell. A Death Eater cell with none other than Barty Crouch Junior and Regulus Black." Slughorn sipped at his wine further and let his words sink in.

Harry's eyebrows had risen to the top of their height on his forehead when he heard that. "He blamed Regulus for his son's position?" He guessed aloud.

"Oh ho! Right on the button with that one! Barty Jr and Regulus were the _best_ of friends in Slytherin. They were almost inseparable. Regulus followed the rest of the Black family under this misguided leadership of Pollux and Orion Black. Against their Lord's wishes, the Black family supported the Dark Lord and Arcturus was in too poor of health to do anything about it. It was a miracle he held on long enough to see the war concluded."

"Regardless, I've strayed off the main topic. Sirius Black was arrested and with enough evidence to paint him as guilty on the surface. Given the absence of a trial, I would assume there was little to no evidence that he actually perpetrated what they accused him of."

Harry couldn't sit idle and listen at this point. If Slughorn _knew_ he was innocent, or even guessed at it, why did he not act? His blood boiled with these thoughts running through his head and he had to voice them. "If you knew he was innocent, why didn't you stand up for him?! Why didn't you help my godfather?" He demanded to know.

Slughorn didn't rise at this, instead he maintained his unnaturally calm demeanour. "The question you should have asked, my boy, is why did nobody else stand up for him?"

Harry forced himself to come down from his fury. He needed to think straight. Horace Slughorn was informing him, trying to teach him. There was more here than just getting upset at injustices over a decade old. "Where were his friends? Why didn't anyone help him?" he asked after a minute.

"Why indeed? Let's look at it. James Potter, the man's staunchest ally, was dead, supposedly at his doing. Augusta Longbottom didn't stand for him like her son or daughter in law would have had they not been in St. Mungos. The left who else? Remus Lupin, a man without the backing of wealth or political power who was known by a few to be a werewolf? Nobody would have listened to him and speaking out would have ensured his secret was spilt. Pettigrew was 'killed' and Black had spent the better part of his life spurning his family and anyone who would have helped a son of House Black. Really, in the end, there was only one person who would have, who should have, and that was Albus Dumbledore. When he did not, why would anyone else? If Dumbledore did not ensure a trial as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, who else would?" Slughorn let the words sink in.

"Do you see it? Why politics are so important?" He asked awaiting a reply from Harry.

"If he'd had more political power he could have kept himself out of prison but because he lacked political capital and allies he was unjustly imprisoned due to a grudge against his family?" Harry asked having done his best to respond.

He smiled at the younger man. "You are astute, you are learning quickly. You are young though and there is a larger point here."

"Sirius Black was the firstborn son. Pollux did not have any sons and Wallaburga did. Sirius was in place to be the heir to the family. It was _well_ known Arcturus did not get on with anyone but Dorea and Cassiopeia by the time Sirius was in Hogwarts. He could have positioned himself to be the heir, to be the person in the family Arcturus could trust. Instead he spurned everyone with the name Black. He pushed away and turned his back on politics. Sirius could have wielded the wealth of the Black family, he could have done _so_ _much more_ for his friends, against the Dark Lord, had he not turned his back on his family."

"Wealth and political power _matter_ in war. They had properties to store material, safe houses, wealth to buy whatever supplies they needed, money to bribe, and political power to protect themselves and reduce their enemies position. Did you know that the aurors were _only_ allowed to use deadly force if it was _first_ used against them? They entered _every_ conflict at a disadvantage all because they ensured the laws would not pass to resolve this issue. They stalled and had legislation defeated that would worsen the position of the Dark Lord. They even used connections and bribes to keep the ICW out of the conflict."

"If Sirius Black had cultivated any favour using his position he could have avoided Azkaban. If he'd taken his responsibilities to his family seriously, he could have been in a position to have helped his friends far more than he could with just his wand. Arcturus detested the decision to join the Dark Lord after he'd previously cultivated an alliance with the Potters to join forces and help depose Grindelwald. Then a couple of decades later, his own family undoes all his hard work? They turn their back on him. But if Sirius had been responsible, if he'd been around, Arcturus would have had an ally within his house, someone he could trust. Instead, he was on an island, only his wife and sister to aid him. Their time past and the younger generations wholly opposed or unwilling to deviate from their parents' wishes."

He stared hard at Harry. "I tell you this because of your position now. You are _internationally_ famous, you come from a distinguished line, the Potters, you are Regent Black, yes I know about that," the man enjoyed seeing another look of surprise on Harry's face, "and you are being sought after by at least two powerful families, the Delacour's and Pavlovs. You need to proceed carefully. You have the potential for greatness across the _entire _spectrum, magical, wealth and politics. Both families are associating with you for political reasons, do you know what they are?"

Harry sat back and thought. He already knew some of it but he was keenly interested in Slughorn's view on the matter. He decided it best to be honest, he was not certain _how_ trustworthy Slughorn was but he'd already proved valuable and could very well continue to do so. His mother had trusted the man and he should be able to verify the contract with the Potter account at Gringotts.

"I have some thoughts on it, sir, but I'm sure I don't know all the reasons," he started.

"It is good to know when you recognize you don't know everything, youth often believe they know everything," Slughorn commented quickly then waved his hand to continue, a little sheepish that he'd cut Harry off.

Harry shot him a smile in thanks for the compliment before continuing. "I believe the Delacour's have a history with the Potters. That they are closer from my Grandfather being involved with a Delacour in the Grindelwald conflict. I'm not _fully_ sure on why Fleur is so interested in me, romantically speaking. She's a couple of years older, supremely talented and beyond beautiful."

"And the Pavlov family?" Horace prompted him to continue.

"Well, from what Natalia says, they want to use me to rehabilitate their image. After backing Grindelwald they changed sides and have been reviled by both ever since. They have a strong standing still but their family reputation could use my image to help rehabilitate it. They've proposed a contract between myself and Natalia as well," he shrugged, not really sure what else to add.

"On a surface level it's a good overview but, again, you lack the whole perspective, there is much more to this. Let me start with the Delacour's recent history. Politically, they have been taking a beating since he took a veela for a wife. There is a long history with veela that I will not get into now but it suffices to say it's contentious. They are in decline politically and that also hurts their economic outlook. Then we have the Pavlov family. Their interest in you is beyond obvious. You are the Regent Black. Before their fall from grace, they were steadfast allies with the Black family. Simply put, they were on opposite sides of the Grindelwald conflict and would love nothing more than the return of their alliance with a resurgent Black family led by a Potter of all things."

Harry's eyebrows were almost close enough to knit together, his face scrunched in concentration. "What do you mean a 'resurgent Black family led by a Potter of all things'?"

Slughorn had a lazy smile on his face now. "For that, you'll have to visit another night. I've drunk my fill and these old bones are telling me it's past time to retire. You'll just have to take me up on my offer, perhaps we can go watch the Harpies together, I can plan a soiree afterwards too."

Even if the hour was late and though he'd consumed generous amounts of wine, Harry had been played. He was baited, hook, line and sinker. There was going to be another meeting, they both knew it.

"I'll watch for your owl," Harry told him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the wiki Lily & Snape met at 9 not 10/11 like my story portrays. Further, Marlene McKinnon is killed by Travers with her family, not separately as I have it here. I'd just like to point out I do pay attention to these details, mostly. The fic is diverging further and further from cannon each chapter it seems.
> 
> Kind of felt the fic had dragged for the last few chapters, this one felt like progress, that the plot moved forward once more.
> 
> This chapter is not beta'd and previous has not been yet either.
> 
> Thanks for reading, following, favoriting and reviewing! Support and feedback are always appreciated.


	19. A Female Friend

"You know Harry," Remus said, with an exasperated voice, "when you say you're bringing over a 'female friend' this isn't what we expected. Normally a teenage bloke would say that when they bring a girl over."

Harry grinned at him. "I did what I said, just not in the way you were expecting." He was totally unrepentant, if the two old guys couldn't enjoy a good prank it wasn't his fault. He laughed at them again.

"I call her Cuddles, she's sweet and cuddly." He gave the two a lopsided smirk.

The little dragon must have understood the intent of the words as it shot another fireball at Sirius, who was getting in good dodging practice, and flew to Harry's chest, slowing itself to hover just off his body. Harry had lots of experience with that maneuver and used his forearm to brace the weight while his unoccupied hand began caressing the dragon, always with the scales, never against.

Cuddles preened at the attention, like a cat that had just jumped into its loving owner's arms and was being spoiled rotten with attention.

"You see, she's just a little fire breathing armor spiked cuddle monster, that's all." He laughed at their disbelieving faces, the perpetual state they'd been in since he showed up at Grimmauld Place with his little dragon.

Sirius, being ten full feet away, moved closer now, now that he deemed himself safe from being lit on fire, "My family is crazy, certified, diagnosed and in the institution nuts, and none of them have _ever_ considered having a pet dragon. A miniature pet dragon." He pinched himself then blinked three times in rapid succession. "Nope, the dream hasn't ended."

He threw his hands up. "I've got nothing Moony. You deal with the pup." He stared at his friend and kept his head purposefully turned away from Harry, though his eyes kept watch for flames escaping from Harry's chest area.

"I mean, give me a good ol' panty raid, a standard prank or even a pregnant girlfriend and I'd know how to respond! But this! This! No. No! Nononononono! I didn't sign up for _this_ madness. I'm a godfather! I'm supposed to teach him whatever his parents _wouldn't_. This!" He gestured at the dragon once more, both hands palm up and arms outstretched. "Nope. I'm the wayward uncle from the crazy Black family. You're the bookworm, the prefect, the responsible one that is going to deal with this, not me. I won't. You can't make me."

Harry couldn't help it, he burst out with loud raucous laughter, almost to the point of tears. His dragon screeched in delight and let out little tufts of fire out her nostrils. Remus couldn't help but join the younger man and pet dragon, he laughed right along with them.

Once they had themselves under control Harry had to comment on it. "Did my _godfather_ just throw a hissy fit? If you want Remus, there's an opening for godfather because mine decided he'd be a better fit as god_mother._" He chuckled at Sirius' pouting.

"Laugh it up! Prongs brought home a mut, a part-time wolf and a _rat_." He sneered the last word, spitting a little at how horrid it tasted coming out of his mouth. "You just wait, you've topped your old man bringing this _abomination_ home."

Cuddle's didn't like being called an abomination, turned her head, and let a torrent line of fire at him. She screeched and roared at him, sending a second one after he dodged the first.

"Padfoot, you'd better apologize, she's not letting up," Harry remarked, as a third throw of fire was spewed at him.

"Fine!" He threw his hands up. "Sorry, you're not an abomination."

Cuddles stopped just before sending a fifth straight line of fire at him. Her head was still forward, neck elongated, but she pulled her head back up, a little, watching Sirius closely, not moving herself from being a half second from spitting the fire that was now coming out her nostrils at every breath.

"I'm sorry, you're awesome and everything every male dreams of having. A beautiful and viciously deadly fire breathing cuddle monster." Sirius did he best to add words that would placate the dragon.

Cuddles huffed, snorted fire out her nose, and then rested back into Harry's chest motioning with her head to pet her again. Harry promptly did, making the two men wonder who was actually the pet and who was the owner.

"Now that _that_ is settled, let's get back to the point at hand. When a young man says he's bringing over a _girl_ you expect a human female, you know, like one of those pretty one's you've been in the papers with! Are you too ashamed of your poor uncles to bring along the Russian ballerina or French veela?"

Harry rolled his eyes at the remark. "Natalia's family lives in Bulgaria and Germany and Fleur is more than _just_ a French veela."

Sirius grinned toothily and bumped Lupin with his shoulder. "See, he's already protecting them! He takes after me, obviously." He lifted his chin, shook his head and threw his shoulder length hair off his right shoulder, back around behind his head. "He takes after me, two timing two smoking hot older women. I'm so proud." He wiped fake tears away from his eyes, one at a time.

"Shove off, I'm not dating either of them." The blush on his face wasn't helping. Harry saw Sirius' jaw dropping and a snap decision had him bite out a remark before either man could get a response in, "And drop it or I'll sick Cuddles on you." Harry glared at the two of them, teasing time was over.

Sirius put both his hands up, palms forward and fingers spread, "I surrender, I surrender. No more teasing little Harry about all the pretty older girls in his life." He backed up a couple steps, for good measure, as he got his final tease in.

Rather used to Sirius, having grown up with him, and especially now that he was living with him, Moony paid no heed to the words.

"I'm astonished at this. I've never heard of anyone with a miniature dragon. She looks like a Horntail but the coloring is wrong. I'd need to look at a text to be sure but I don't think her features are perfectly matched to one." He peered closely at Cuddles.

"How ever did you get her? They didn't give them out when I was a student there." Remus tried to make light of his poorly masked curiosity and worry.

"Family magic." Harry stated, a lopsided smile on his face.

"Family Magic?" Sirius remarked, obviously skeptical. "Who, pray tell, would have taught you this 'Family Magic'? He air-quoted the words giving action to his sarcastic question.

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter. As long as I tell everyone that it was Family Magic nobody can question me on it. This is family magic and she is my bonded familiar so nobody can take her from me." He reached his free hand into his robe pocket and withdrew a parchment. Brandishing it in that same free hand, the one Cuddles was glaring at for _daring_ to stop adorning her affection.

"This here is fresh from Madame Bones! My familiar license, it's all legal, says so here." He allowed Remus and Sirius to read it.

"Heh, he's actually done the ministry paperwork. You haven't even done that for your animagus form." Remus sniggered. "Must take after Lils given James never registered either."

Harry took the parchment back and put it back into his magically expanded pocket.

"Imagine if I had. They'd have kept me in that hell hole I was stuck in for over a decade. Good thing I never did." Sirius grumped back at his friend, not enjoying any reminder of his time in Azkaban.

"Or not. They would have had Pettigrews and may have recognized he escaped through the sewer." The comment brought a staleness to atmosphere, an uncomfortable silence hung between them for a moment. "Then again, you can't trust the ministry for much." Harry added defusing the air between them all.

"Right, on that note, let's move on from that." Sirius perked back up, showing he was going to do as he'd said. "Was there a reason you wanted to come chat beyond showing us Cuddles? Or did you just want to spend time with the two greatest guys you've ever met?" Sirius asked wiggling both his eyebrows a closed lip smile below his mirthful eyes.

"There are some things that might be nice to chat about but I also like spending time with you guys. You are my crazy marauder uncles." He gave them a warm look.

"That we are,'' Remus said, chuckling slightly, "that we are."

"So, what would you want to talk about with us? Do you need the _talk?_ Info about a wizard's _wand_, the hows, wheres and whats of holstering a wand in a pretty witch, or perhaps a certain veela?"

Harry needn't react to Sirius. Remus immediately punched him in the forefront of his shoulder. "Ignore him," he added, speaking directly to Harry, "it always takes a minute for him to figure out when to be serious."

Sirius jumped forward, after recoiling from the punch, "I'm always Siri-" another hit to the same spot on his shoulder came from Remus.

"None of that! We've been over this since you were a pre-teen! Serious-Sirius jokes are not funny. They never were and they _never_ will be." He growled at the dog animagus.

Harry snickered as Sirius was rubbing his shoulder's tender spot. "Fine, fine, grumpy ol' wolf." Sirius grumbled.

Remus ignored his friend, used to his antics. "Well was there anything in particular?" He prompted Harry again, a concerned disposition to his body language.

"I'm trying to figure out some next steps and there is quite a lot going on in my life, and around me." Harry started out, his voice low, unsure of what all he felt comfortable divulging.

"Like the Second Task of the tournament or your schooling or….?" Lupin asked and prompted after Harry hadn't continued his previous sentence.

Harry, head bowed, tilted his head to the left and peaked out of the top corner of his eyes at the man, his facial muscles constricted. "No, that I've got well in hand."

"Really, you know what it is?" Sirius asked, intrigued.

Harry looked up at him. "Yes. It's typically a retrieval and, more often than not, it's a hostage retrieval. The golden egg had a riddle in Mermish and so I expect we need to dive into the Black Lake to go and retrieve someone. Between the Bubble Head Charm and Gillyweed I should be just fine. I've even debated purchasing an enchanted rebreather but those are custom order and not cheap. It wouldn't be much different than the other two options anyway."

"Wow, I had no idea you already has solved it. You're sure though, that that's what it is?" Remus asked, somewhat skeptical, but not wholly so.

"I'm sure." He said firmly, not in a rebuking or angry manner though.

"That's great then! You've got a real shot to win this thing then!" Sirius exclaimed, not getting too close with Cuddles who was still entrenched and lavishing in the affection from her owner.

"I'm not really concerned with that." He replied, bluntly. "I've been forced into this nonsense and given the pattern of at least one attempt on my life per school year, normally at the end of the year, I'm expecting the third task to try and kill me, possibly the second task too." He knew he could trust these two for this, even if they told Dumbledore it didn't matter, the man would have already be aware of this.

"You think the second task as well?" Remus asked gravely.

Harry just nodded, he'd already told them as much, verbally.

"And you think gillyweed or a bubble head charm would be sufficient? The charm can be pierced and pop; gillyweed wears off, eventually..." He expressed his concerns for both methods.

"Yes, those are the downsides, hence my thoughts on getting an enchanted rebreather. I can cast the charm, if it's needed, and I can keep gillyweed stored with me, in case it is needed." Harry calmly told them, he'd spent hours dwelling on this within his own thoughts.

Remus tapped his chin with his forefinger, "it's a good plan, or start of one at any rate." He told Harry. "Doesn't seem very marauder like though." He caught the eye of Sirius and the two shared a moment.

"Oh?" Harry raised an eyebrow in response. "Anything to suggest then?" he challenged the duo.

Another long look between them occurred; where they were communicating just by staring at each other, Harry assumed. "We'll get back to you on that." Sirius said gleefully with a grin plastered to his face, while rubbing the palms of his hands together.

"I look forward to it." He told them.

Harry shifted and decided to sit now. For the first time since arriving to show off Cuddles and chatting with his uncles, Harry noticed that there was something different in the drawing room. The furniture was new, a comfortable tan leather couch, loveseat and chair set replaced the old worn out furniture that once graced the drawing room. He sat on the loveseat and reclined his feet up onto the vacant cushion beside him, keeping his feet dangling off the end, as he sat back and enjoyed the soft comfortable seat. Taking his time to get comfortable, Harry stated, "There was something I wanted to show you."

Both men sat on the couch that was facing him and waited for him to say more.

"Cuddles is _more_ than just a familiar." He saw the confusion rest upon their faces during his slight pause. "She's connected to me." He put Cuddles down beside him on the love seat and kept his hand on her underbelly. He shut his eyes and concentrated. He willed his magic into his arm, the one holding his dragon, and to push into her.

Both men watched. They were astounded at what they were seeing. Magic was _visibly_ flowing out of Harry and into his familiar, Cuddles, the small dragon you could hold in your hand was _growing_. It wasn't quick and hadn't even been immediately noticeable but now it was.

Sweat poured off Harry as he continued to force his magic into his little dragon. He pushed and pushed forcing magic to bend to his will. To strengthen the dragon, to enrich it and add to its connection to him.

Harry cut off the connection, a drop of sweat falling off his nose. He looked down, and just like his experiments had discovered this past week, the dragon had grown to stand with it's upper body reaching to a full grown man's waist. Cuddles was like an oversized dog perched on the couch.

Harry loved the marauders unabashedly shocked faces. He'd do his best to commit it to memory. "Still want to annoy my cuddle monster?" He asked, a gigantic grin trying to split his face in half.

The lack of response was telling. Sirius was always quick witted but his mind wasn't functioning fully. Remus was no better off.

"The thing is, the more magic I pump into her the greater degree of control over her I have. She's still a dragon but it feels like there's a splinter of me within her. I can sense her presence, her instincts, her will. And she adheres to my magic's intent and will, magic I am still connected to. It's really hard to describe." He explained to them.

"She's deadlier now? Like she can spit fire still?" Sirius asked, his face pale, all the blood drained out of it.

"Yep." Harry said, popping the p. "At this size she's still almost impervious to magic and her body is just as strong as any dragon's. She can fly and spit fire as if this was still her real size."

"Unbelievable." Remus breathed out heavily, still scarcely believing what he was seeing before them. "There are tales of dragons being unleashed in war, but they are old and unverifiable. Dragons are strong, fierce, proud creatures and are independent of a wizards will. To have one… wow. Amazing." He sat still, his hand covering his mouth staring between them.

"For reasons I'm sure you can imagine I'm keeping this quiet. She's my ace in the hole. Nobody can plan for her if they don't know about her. Sure she's registered as a familiar of mine but that's a tiny hand-held dragon. Not, well, this." He gestured at his dragon and acceded to its wishes for more cuddles. The dragon draped her head down onto Harry's lap. Harry ran his hands along it's scales lovingly.

"Merlin, saggy ball sack! This is _incredible_! A real live dragon under your control!" Sirius was stupefied by the realization. "I still thought it was a prank, not actually a dragon." He added sheepishly.

Harry withdrew his wand from the holster with a snap of his wrist. He snapped a stunning spell at Cuddles, it careened into her before deflecting and dissapaiting once it hit the roof.

"Extraordinary really doesn't cut it in this case, Harry. This is indescribable! A dragon, even a miniature one, is a force to be reckoned with. I wouldn't want to cross wands with it, let alone a wizard that holds some control over it." Remus remarked.

"I'm not complaining, that's for sure." Harry responded, stroking down the dragon's neck.

"You said you figured out how to increase its size from experimentation?" Remus asked, prompting Harry to say more.

"I did, yes. But, I'm not going to show off anything else quite yet. I'm working on more with Cuddles, when I have time, and I can't go spilling all my secrets, now can I?" He smirked as Sirius pouted and Remus chuckled.

"No, keeping some things to yourself, about your familiar, is probably wise." Remus agreed, leaning back and shifting his weight into the armrest of the couch. "You'd said you wanted to talk about a couple things?" He prompted Harry again.

"Yep," Harry responded and then ran his free hand through his hair, sitting back heavily. "I had dinner and a potions lesson with Horace Slughorn last night, I trust you two know him." He looked at them expectantly.

"That snake? Of course we know him, never liked the pompous git." Sirius replied with anger touching his tone he sat forward and his face displayed concern for his godson. "Why would you do that?" He questioned, his tone of voice demanding an answer.

"I wanted to hear some stories about my mother. He taught her and was, apparently, a favorite of his. We met at the Yule Ball and he had offered to tell me about her over dinner. I didn't see the harm. Why, is there something I should know about him?" Harry remained calm, carefully paying attention to the two men, he was interested in what they would say.

"Sirius might be a tad harsh in his declaration but he isn't fully off in his concern. Slughorn collected people. The connected, wealthy, talented; anyone he felt could be of future value he would seek to bring into his circles. Your mother was one of them, even after she graduated she kept up a correspondence with him. James always hated it. Didn't like Lily taking advice from him, they quarrelled more than once over it." Remus was hunched forward, shoulders inward, a melancholic delivery of his words.

"He told me something interesting, I was hoping you guys could verify it." Both men narrowed their eyes, Sirius joined Remus leaning inward, getting physically closer.

"He told me mom had signed a contract with the Potter family, she'd date him to start 7th year then he wou-"

"Hippogriff shit!" Sirius stood as he swore. "Utter bollocks! Your parents _loved_ each other, they didn't marry for some contract! He's trying to poison you!" He exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air and turning in place. He rounded back towards Harry, standing large above the seated Harry, though still six feet apart, "He's trying to _collect _you! Just like he did with Lily! Poison you with his honeyed words!" Sirius was angry, furious even.

Harry kept calm, he expected this reaction. "Will you let sit and let me finish?" Harry asked, his voice a little heated in annoyance.

"Yes, sit Padfoot. Let Harry finish, he did come to _us_, to ask us about this. Let's hear him out." Remus tapped the seat Sirius had just vacated with the hand of his outreached arm. Sirius huffed and sat down, arms crossed with a foul look to him as he waited for Harry to continue.

"According to Slughorm, the contract was supposed to be they would date for the first six months and if neither had broken it off during that time they would become betrothed. Within two years of the betrothal they would be married and within a couple years of marriage they'd have a child. My question is do you believe my mom or dad would have been a party to one?"

"No. Jamie would have told me. He knew about mine and he _would_ have told me."

A sudden fit of coughing from the old wolf beside him on the couch brought a smile to his lips. "He would have told us." He amended.

Harry nodded, he wasn't going to try and refute that, in fact he believed that would be the case. They had a tight bond, even the two in front of him were like brothers after being estranged for a decade. "What about mom? Why did she suddenly shift her opinion and start to date dad in 7th year? She supposedly hated him, you both told me that.

Remus scratch the top of his head, thinking about how to answer that. "Honestly, I'm not completely sure. Lily and James always maintained that she saw a different side to him, that the war had woken her up and as she was no longer protecting Snape and saw James' actions in a new light." He shrugged, looking uncertain. "Lily was really only close with Marlene; don't get me wrong, we all became good friends with her but her closest confidant was Marlene and after her death, James."

"Look Harry, I'm not sure what lies Slughorn told you but he _can't_ be trusted. He was a snake and he still is. He had his hooks into your mother but James put an end to that, your father never trusted the man and neither should you." Sirius told him solemnly, the constant joker was all business now, sitting on the couch with Remus.

Harry reached into his pocket and withdrew a folder. He opened it, slowly and turned the contents towards them. Both men shuffled towards the middle of the three person couch and scooted forward to best read the parchment that had been presented to them. They both began scanning the document.

Remus gasped, his hand flying to his mouth. It curled into a fist and he was biting it, not enough to draw blood. Sirius sat back, almost throwing himself against the back of the couch. His face ashen, devoid of emotion and color. "I don't believe it." He whispered hoarsely. "I don't believe it." He repeated, talking to himself, hoping his words would change what was written on the paperwork.

Harry sighed and stopped petting Cuddles, moving the dragon's head off his lap onto the the other portion of the love seat in which the rest of her body was already occupying. Harry stood pacing the floor in front of his uncles as he spoke.

"I found it in the Potter vault on my way here. I wasn't sure when he originally told me about the contract, but he was correct, he told me the truth. Lily signed as a legal adult but it was my grandparents who signed for the Potter family. I'm not even sure dad would have known… If it means anything to you, Horace thought it didn't start out with love but he was sure they were in love before they had me." He spoke softly, measuring his words to help brace the impact of this news.

"Interestingly enough Slughorn claimed he educated my mother in the ways of the wizarding world and that he was the driving force behind mom signing it." He let that last bit sink in and rested back into the tanned leather, enjoying its comfort.

"That, that's, that's a lot to take in." Remus responded after a time, speaking slowly the words forming in his mouth with difficulty, his voice croaking as he tried to speak. "James… he never wanted one of these. He wanted to choose his wife, not have it dictated to him. In a way, he got both, saddled with a contract unknowingly, but, to the woman he adored and loved more than anything…" He swallowed heavily and fell silent.

Sirius finally sat up from his almost prone position, where he'd been lying back against the couch. "I can't believe Uncle Charlie would do that, but I can believe Dorea would. She was always sneaky like that; always for your own benefit though. She loved her son and would manipulate and scheme to make him happy. I can see her in this." His eyes were reddened.

"I can see you might need some time here, there was one more thing I was hoping for, if you could point me in the right direction." Harry said addressing his godfather directly.

Sirius looked back at him but didn't respond, Harry had his attention, or what little he had to give at the moment.

"I'd like to speak with a portrait, Arcturus Black, my grandmother's brother if he's available." The request surprising both men once more, though their reaction was muted.

"Check the study, second floor across from the library, he's above the desk." Sirius told him monotonously.

"Thanks" Harry replied, standing and concentrating on his familiar. He left the excess magic bleed off and she returned to her small size. He scooped up his sleeping dragon and exited the drawing room.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"You know I had to do a fair bit of research to find out about the base veritaserum potion and how it works." Harry kept silent for a moment, stalling for time on what he wanted to say. It was odd, he was trying to figure out how much he could trust Natalia, how much of their interactions were true, were scripted and it had been driving him nuts. It kept staying in his mind, his thoughts. He couldn't keep thoughts of this upcoming conversation out of his mind. So he'd contacted her, set another evening stroll through the park together, well a walk to their bench at the park they frequent. Now here he was, leading out this conversation, one he'd given a lot of thought to, especially after Slughorn had given him advice on veritaserum and its uses.

"It wasn't easy to find; I was lucky I knew someone that could help me get some." Slughorn, he'd sent a letter of invite to an upcoming quidditch match and Harry accepted the invitation with request for the vial he had in his pocket and instruction on how to use it.

Harry was sitting on the bench with Natalia once more. They'd come to this familiar spot and setup the normal privacy and muggle repelling spellwork. Now was the time. It felt _wrong_, it felt like he was interrogating a criminal.

She'd been so meek and the typical warmth Harry had come to expect when around Natalia was missing. Even their hug when they greeted each other was forced, robitc, and awkward. Harry himself had been somewhat shaky. His limbs were restless, nervous. Their walk to this point had been mostly silent; It felt more like they were walking to a death sentence for their relationship than anything else.

"You didn't have to do that." She informed him. "I had some at home and brought it." She withdrew a small vial from her pocket. It was a short fat little thing. Squared edges with the top coming to a fine point where a small dropper was plunged into the liquid, the same as the one he had in his pocket. Neither were labelled but the oddity of the container wouldn't let one forget easily.

"You told me about the basic veritaserum, if you supply it, and only you take it, how am I to know if it was real?" He asked rhetorically. "I verified what you told me and then got my own."

Natalia shrunk under his gaze as he spoke. He saw her shiver, whether it was from the cold outside, the lack of trust between them, or the freezing tenseness between them he didn't know. She was huddled in on herself, legs together and her arms hugging herself.

"How did you want to do this?" He asked. She had offered this option in good faith and he would oblige her wishes for it as long as it didn't jeopardize his faith in the process.

"I'll take a single dose, three drops, and you can ask me questions." She didn't shrink from his stare, "I'll answer them." There was a fire in her eyes still, even when she'd been withdrawn and meek. She may have withered on the surface but there was hidden strength to her, she wasn't giving up, even now.

"Okay." He said softly handing the bottle to her. He carefully watched as she unsealed it and did as was proper. One drop was let out and fell onto her tongue, she squeezed the dropper ever so softly. A second droplet escaped and fell into her mouth, landing in the same spot. A third was taken and she closed off the bottle and handed it back to him, given how full it still was he had quite a few more opportunities to use this in the future. He counted to ten in his head, the length of time it was supposed to take to kick in.

She brought her chin back up and her eyes sought his, "It should be active now." She told him in a voice void of emotion. He'd read up on the effects of the potion and a monotone delivery was a side effect of the potion.

"Who told you I was learning to dance from Lacroix?" He was starting from the beginning, much of the conversation he'd battied about in his mind, going over wording and what he wanted to find out.

"Lacroix."

"And whose idea was it to introduce us?"

"Lacroix."

"Do you believe that was politically motivated?" Harry asked, the first real question being asked.

She opens her mouth then closes it. Opening it a second time she answers, "Yes".

"Please explain." This is what Slughorn had advised him not to do, a broad question where even truthful words could be misleading. It wasn't that he was neglecting the advice. It was more that he wanted to gauge what she said.

"Lacroix's academy would gain a lot of publicity and it would look even better if one of her prized pupils was on your arm, me." She told him, her voice sounded wrong compared to what Harry was used to. It doesn't match her mannerisms.

"You don't think the politics extended to the Pavlov family? Yes or no response please." He asked doubtfully, adding the command after it, boxing in her ability to answer.

Her lips parted and she mouthed a word but no sound came. Her mouth closed and she tried again. Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise, the potion had kept her from answering.

"You're trying to say 'no' but you can't. Why?" Not a well thought out response to situation but it would have to due, he couldn't script everything. He'd thought of bringing parchment and having her answer pre-written questions but it felt too much like a criminal case, too distant. The idea had soured in his stomach right away, too cold and callous.

She looked relieved when he allowed her to explain. "I think it's doubtful it was motivated for my family. She's always kept out of my family's business and has always been strictly professional. I don't see her changing that stance now, though some part of me must believe it is a possibility as I was unable to answer 'no'." The emotionless delivery sent chills down his spine.

A reasonable response.

"Initially did you want to go to the Yule Ball with me or were you tasked with it by someone else?"

She might not be able to voice emotion but her body language was all her own. She did not want to answer that question bluntly, she did anyway. "I was told to."

Harry winced, though his mind had guessed this was the case it still hurt to hear. "By who?"

She squirmed in her seat, Harry wondered if she thought he would only ask her questions like 'do you like me?' or 'do you really want to date me?' not the line of questioning he'd started off with.

"My parents learned you were attending lessons with Lacroix and demanded she set it up." She told him.

"To what purpose? Why would Lacroix go along with it? If you're not sure speculate." He was being cold and ruthless to her in his questions. She'd volunteered and Harry was treating this like an actual interrogation, an opportunity to learn as much as possible from someone who might not be working towards goals he'd align with.

She bowed her head before she answered and kept it there, not daring to make eye contact. "They learned of your connection to the Blacks and as you are the boy-who-lived, famous in your own right, they wanted me to get close to you. Lacroix wanted to keep me as her ballet student and I want to be allowed to continue in ballet. My parents threatened to withdraw me and keep me from ballet, what I love the most in life."

Harry scowled in response, even Lacroix had been forced to toy with his life for political means. Had she been steering him towards it from the start or had she been genuinely interested in helping him?

Harry could feel his heart beating in his chest, he could hear his pulse in his ears. He'd thought he was prepared for this. He thought it was as if he'd worn long johns, an extra sweater and put on a heavy winter jacket with a hood, to protect one from the elements on a cold day. While that would have been sufficient for a blustery winter day, the one he'd expected, it wouldn't be even close to sufficient for being dropped into the middle of Antarctica, the depth of coldness this situation had delved too, comparably.

"Did you actually want to go on a date with me or were you forced to?" The sternness of his voice matched his unyielding resolve to find out as much as possible about this situation he now found himself in.

Natalia opened her mouth to respond but no words escaped her lips. The potion was keeping her from saying whatever it was she was trying to tell him. She looked at him desperately, trying to will the answer out, but again, no speech came from her.

He watched as she resigned herself, defeated by the potion, and she answered him. "I was forced to."

An emotional blow so heavy he could feel its impact physically. He swallowed the hurt he was feeling, the potion wouldn't last forever and he was going to soldier on.

"When did Lacroix get told to partnered us for the Yule Ball? You told me your parents didn't know, was that the truth?"

"I don't know when exactly, my parents became aware after you started lessons but I don't think it was right away. My parents gave an ultimatum: we go together or I don't dance at the ballet academy anymore. I didn't tell them we were going together before the ball, they had given me an ultimatum and only knew for sure I followed through from the morning papers."

Harry hummed, she hadn't lied then; she'd just stretched the truth to deliberately mislead him instead.

His head wasn't right, he was failing to think clearly and not sure where to go with his questions next. Well, that's not completely true. He knew of some questions he needed to ask but he was afraid of their answers. The inquisition had already been painful and if the whole thing was a setup it would crush him. But if it was a complete setup why would she have volunteered to be put in a position to give up the ruse? Was this a desperate ploy to not give up the gig or was this a way to show that even though things hadn't started genuinely between they were now?

The rational part of his mind didn't think this was a total setup. But the part of him that had grown up emotionally abused, emotionally neglected didn't want to risk the chance of hearing that. It was better to wonder than to know he was always just a pawn to her.

No, he resolved himself, he was growing beyond his upbringing, he was learning to be his own person, and he wouldn't be held captive by his emotions.

"Did you like me before the Yule Ball, romantically or otherwise? If so, elaborate." This time it was him that did not look at her. He'd gotten the question out but he wasn't able to steel himself to look at her directly. If she looked at him and sneered that she had never liked him he wasn't sure he could have handled it well.

If he had looked up he'd have seen Natalia brighten. This was the kind of question she'd hoped she'd be able to answer. Her spirits were being crushed, before this question. They were framed that she couldn't qualify her answers and say 'yes I was forced to go with you but I'm so glad they did! It was the best thing they've ever done for me!' like she would have wanted to say. Now though, she had a nice easy pitch in the center of the batting zone and she was going to crush this pitch and turn things around.

"Yes!" She emphatically answered, her voice was still monotonous, but she perked up and moved closer to him. "It was right here, in this park, where we talked. I hated that I was encouraged to go on another date. I hated being forced to do something so I could keep doing what I love to do. But I wasn't lying to you on our walks. I like that you like _me_. And I like you, Harry, not the boy-who-lived, not the political connection to the Black family. I like _you_ and I wanted to go to the ball with _you_ once I started getting to know you." She had moved right in front of him and hugged him now. She expected this would be the moment, where she proved she was truthful and he trusted her again. Her arms were wrapped around him but he didn't hug her back.

Natalia withdrew from the hug and looked at him. He wasn't elated like she thought he'd be. He was looking at her impassively, frozen in his seat.

"Didn't you hear me? I like you. I did this because I wanted to be with you. I know you must not trust me so I thought up this idea to prove I do like you."

Harry was still unresponsive, a vacant expression on his face.

There was that persistent voice in the back of his head. A constant doubt that even now she was playing him falsely. He'd thought the veritaserum would solve it but it had not. Slughorn had the right of it, while the portion works, it's application is limited and the testimony with it is still not foolproof.

He sighed, breaking out of his thoughts, "Would you like me if I wasn't the boy-who-lived, Regent Black and Head of House Potter?"

Natalia tried to say 'yes' and though her lips moved she wasn't able to verbalise it. She hung her head and didn't meet his eyes. Tears fell from her eyes and she swallowed. Harry was frozen, he'd hoped that she would have been able to answer in the affirmative. He wanted her to and when she was trying to he was elated. Elation gave way to gut wrenching pain when she could not speak. As much as he may have wanted to look away from the train chugging along heading off a cliff he couldn't. His body was unresponsive.

Natalia, teary eyed, pursed her lips and then opened them into an 'o' shape. No noise came again.

Harry's attention whirled, he focused on her, his stomach jumping back up from the depths it had plunged to. "Elaborate, explain both reasonings." Maybe this wasn't all a trick?

Natalia took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, she'd just been sure she was about to end any chance of being with Harry, and possibly her dance career with it, when the words had failed to come out again. She collected herself, slowed her rapid breathing and wiped the tears away from her eyes. What a sight she must be, she thought.

"I think 'yes' because I like you, for you, as you like me, for me. I'm your brat, you're my dolt." Her broad smile contrasted the level delivery. "And it must be 'no' because if you weren't Regent Black, a Potter, or possibly just famous, a Pavlova like me would never be allowed to date you, a half blooded englishman." She gave him a crooked smile.

This was exhausting Harry thought to himself. The rollercoaster ride. Should he continue asking questions? How long did the potion have left? It felt like this had gone on for hours but that couldn't be right. Her voice was still alien to him, devoid of inflections and warmth. It was coming from her body but it was not her natural voice, still unnatural.

He'd press on, he'd get a few more answers then reflect on it all. There was so much moving so quickly and he wished he had living parents once more. People who would advise and help shoulder this burden. The Black's holdings and records were in total disarray. The Potter's had a nest egg for him but no obvious path for him to use it. He'd never learned anything about finance or how to run a business.

Those thoughts weren't helping, he could figure that out later, focus on the here and now. If he allowed himself to think of everything going on in his life he'd get overwhelmed. A Dark Lord, a deadly tournament, politics, scheming, finances, friends, old and new, and Slytherin. Hell, even all these rituals were making him uneasy. He was following the path, and progressing well, but was it the right thing to do? Who could he trust to help him? Slughorn was too new and he knew too little of the man; Sirius had good intentions but the man's life choices were severely lacking. Remus the uncle who was never there for him might be the most level headed but he was also so distant.

No! Back to this conversation, back to Natalia.

"Do you see us together long term?" He asked softly, his psyche worn out.

"Yes. My parents will approve of the match and I doubt anyone else they'd approve of I would like as much as you. I cannot say I love you yet but I'm falling for you." The warm words raised his spirits but he was emotionally spent now.

"Does your family seek to align with me or use me?" He asked, leaving these open ended, he had not the ability to find clever ways to box in her responses anymore.

She laughed lightly at the question. "They will try and use you while being happy settling with just aligning. Hope for the best prepare for the worst, set yourself up with a win-win scenario, that way you never lose. That is part of the Pavlov way." She informed him.

"Will you keep my secrets from your family?"

"Yes, though I may need to divulge something lest they think I am hiding things from them. I could stop completely when I'm married and take your name."

Harry knew he should ask more about this, try and pin her down and see but it just didn't feel worth it. This was supposed to be a relationship, not a math equation with all the variables solved and accounted for. He shook his head.

"Do you plan to be honest and upfront with me?" The question had no heat to it, he was tired.

"Yes, of course," She closed any space that was on the bench that was left between them.

"What do you want most in life?" He asked, his own answer was always close to his heart. He'd love to leave this all behind, to be a nobody, to fall in love and live in some simple home, work a normal job and be happy with his wife and family. That's what he wanted most; something fate was eager to ensure he never had the opportunity for. It was a dream, no more, and wholly unattainable.

"To dance." She whispered. "I'd give it all up to just be able to dance, I love ballet and it's what I want more than anything in life."

"Ballet?" He asked, recalling the ultimatum her parents had given her. Would they hold that over her head, was she making the best of her situation to get what she loved most in life. He'd noticed the change in her voice, the potion had run its course.

"Yes."

There wasn't anything obtuse done to signify the end of the questioning. They both were aware the potion had run its course and both were quiet, reflecting on their conversation so far.

"I have another topic I'd like to ask about." His eyes didn't meet hers. "It was something I read about from a very… traditional… author." His cheeks were rapidly gaining a red hue.

"Ohhhkayyyy…" She responded drawing out the one word response perplexed at his sudden shyness and change of topic.

"I'm not asking for it." He said crimson faced.

Natalia wasn't sure she'd seen him this embarassed before. He'd been so composed recently, even when there was a misunderstanding earlier. What could get him so flustered she wondered.

"Not asking for what?" She quirked her head as she asked, trying to see where this was going. They'd just been having a heavy conversation and it seemed to have gone well. Where was this conversation headed?

"I just don't have parents to ask…" He mumbled dejectedly, ignoring her response.

She embraced him quickly. "It's okay, even if it's awkward or offensive I won't react poorly. You can trust me." She smiled at him reassuringly as his eyes searched her for sincerity.

He nodded and then gulped. "I read… I read that when a girlloseshervirginityitcreatesabond." The words flew out of his mouth, unintelligible to anyone who could have heard it.

"I couldn't understand that," She grasped his hand, "can you repeat it, slowly Harry?" She did her best to sound as reassuring as possible.

Harry nodded, not making eye contact and tried again. "I read that when a girl loses her virginity it creates a bond of some sort." She blinked rapidly and didn't even twitch her lips, "And that it's important for a good relationship in magical marriages…" His ears were burning and his face couldn't be more flushed even if he was hospitalized for a high fever.

She began giggling, a blush adorning her cheeks.

Harry was caught between two starkly contrasted responses to Natalia's giggling. First, he was starting to laugh with her, glad she broke the tension and this was her response to his awkwardness. The second effect of her giggling. He'd forgotten part of the reason he had liked her so, she was gorgeous. Far more attractive when she was happy.

When she got herself under control, she responded.

"That is a, uhm, _very_ traditional view. Almost nobody believes that now." She couldn't stop another short round of giggles.

"Oh, I wasn't raised magical and I'd never heard of it until I read about it." He stated, still a tiny bit embarrassed.

"It must have been a really old book. The only time you find it now is when it is in one of _those_ kinds of fiction books nowadays." Seeing his blank face, she filled him in. "You know, trashy romance novel types, hero saves damsel and things are added that are _magical_ to make their relationship special, romantic, and really deep and affectionate." She laughed lightly at the look of horror on his face. "Virginity bonds, soul bonds, slavery bonds, veela bonds, potion accidents, magical mind connections, sharing of each others magic, empathy bonds, and all types of crazy ways for the paired couple to share something deeper than just a normal relationship. That's just the tip of the iceberg for the kind of nonsense. Quite a lot of people read that kind of stuff." She educated him.

"People read that and enjoy it?" Harry's eyes were wide and his eyebrows tried to meet his hairline. "I'll take your word for it." He told her skeptically, not believing it.

She giggled against him and shifted so she was sitting facing him a little more, the previous position getting a bit uncomfortable for her.

Harry wondered about what she'd said. Salazar's writing had it as a statement of fact. There was no debate as to whether a bond was made or not, it was, end of story. Harry internally debated if it was another thing that was no longer prevalent.

Today, there was a focus on blood purity, on tracing your magical line back a number of generations. The older your magical roots the better it made you, apparently. The talk of bloodline traits was non existent now and family traits seemed to have disappeared. Harry had not found out what his ancestral magical bloodline trait was supposed to have been for the Potters but he'd seen the Blacks were prone to have a chance for being a metamorphmagus.

It wasn't something he had to make his mind up on now but it was interesting to hear a modern take on it.

Harry was broken out of his musings by Natalia's voice.

"How have you been recently? We haven't talked much" She asked, changing the subject.

"What do you mean?" He asked her, trying to keep himself from being suspicious of her motivations for asking.

She poked his chest. "I mean how are you, like how are you doing? How was your day yesterday and even earlier today?"

"You want to know?" He questioned, doubtful she actually wanted to know for no reason.

"Sure, I want to know lots of things about you. It's the kind of question my parents ask me everyday." She told him.

" If you want to hear it... sure, I can tell you, I guess."

Natalia indicated she did.

"Well, I'm not really sure what to tell you really. There wasn't anything too crazy really and it seems weird, people don't normally ask me about my days." Harry told her.

"Why ever not?" She asked, stunned.

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it affectionately. Then, she began rubbing her thumb back and forth in a comforting manner. She let her presence do all the talking for her; she was there for him.

Harry maneuvered his arm out from between them. He lifted it up overhead and brought it around her far shoulder and pulled her into a one arm hug, into an affectionate cuddle out on the public park, on their bench.

"Does it have to do with why you weren't hugged until you were at Hogwarts?" Natalia asked tenatatively, so softly spoken it was sparse more than a whisper.

Harry shifted, slightly, with her question. Natalia could feel his pulse quicken.

"Yes." He whispered.

She decided to move. A one armed hug was no long sufficient contact. She anchored her hands on the bench and lifted herself so she was sitting in his lap, her feet going past him to the far end of the bench. Her hips perpendicular to his with her torso rotated to be as close to parallel to him as possible. She wrapped her arms around him.

"You don't need to tell me. Whenever you're ready, I'll be here, I'll listen." She told him, gently speaking into his ear.

His arms wrapped around her, he rested his head on her shoulder and exhaled deeply.

"Thanks." He mumbled into her shoulder.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Holly and phoenix feather, his ol' faithful, the wand that had gotten him through so much. Sadly his troubles were not solvable with his wand. Nevertheless, he kept it in hand; it was comforting to hold it, to use it.

He directed his wand at a rock, no bigger than the space between his two largest knucks on his middle finger, and banished it. The flat surface of it skipped along the surface of the Black Lake. He watched it bounce, un, deux, trois, un, four times it bounced before plunging in.

He spied another rock, this one more shapely for his purposes. He levitated it and sent it shooting across the water. Un, deux, trois, un, deux, trois, six times it skipped this time, a good effort.

He'd taken his plan to use magic to do everything he could with it, all silently and without a specific wand movement. This was another task he was now using magic for. He'd skipped rocks out here on the lake before and he was already better at it with his wand than he was with his arm. He'd gotten as high as nine so far.

This was a place for him to come and think. He needed time away. If he'd been forced to choose between dealing with Slughorn, then his uncles and followed by interrogating Natalia or going through the Yule and Delacour Balls again he'd choose the publicity everytime. He'd have never thought that but all this drama and intrigue was just ridiculous.

Harry had always been the kind of person to trust his gut but now he wasn't sure. Dumbledore had always seemed so trustworthy, the grandfather he wished he had more time for him. Harry knew the headmaster had been more available to him than most any other student but it could have been better.

Sirius he'd thought so highly of in his third year. They'd captured the rat and he was going to leave the Dursleys and go live with him, just like his parents wanted. Then reality hit, well politics and a terrible justice system, and that crashed and burned.

It was this fourth year, the fourth year with a blatant plot to kill him that he'd snapped. He felt he should be more fair, that he should give Ron and Hermione a chance to get back into his good graces. He just didn't want to. It would be so easy to go back to the Gryffindor dorm, to forget everything he'd learned. His thoughts broke and he continued sitting on the small boulder, he stared out at the lake willing his mind clear so answers could find space to populate. His heavy cloak pulled tight as it was still January in Scotland.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, staring across the water. At some point he heard footsteps behind him. He turned his head, without moving off his rock, and saw Fleur. Dressed in her standard Beauxbatons uniform, looking far too underdressed for the weather.

"Fleur?" He called out to her.

"'Arry!" She said excitedly. "I've been looking for you."

"How did you know I was out here?" He didn't think anyone would have known. He came back to Hogwarts after meeting with Natalia and had just meandered toward the path around the Black Lake without even meaning to. He was deep in thought and his body had taken him here on autopilot.

"Monsieur Hagrid, he told Madame Maxime when I was with her. Well, he said you entered through the gates but didn't enter the castle as he'd gone to look for you." She said as she made her way towards him, gracefully moving to him. She got to where he was and withdrew a blanket from her pocket. It had to have been enchanted as there was no room for a blanket in her uniform.

She placed it on the ground and daintily kneeled on it. Tapping the empty space beside her, she motioned for him to join her.

Harry sat down on it, his legs together and off to the left, leaning on his right arm for support as to keep his shoes off it. The blanket was warm to the touch.

"It is spelled to resist dirt and to be warm. You can sit normally."

Harry heard that and decided to sit cross legged. Fleur shifted now, she moved her torso toward him and had her lower leg touching his. She didn't say anything she just joined him and looked out over the lake.

It was Harry that finally said something to fill the silence. The lack of conversation hadn't been weird at all. Her presence had been the opposite, she somehow understood he needed to decompress still and he appreciated it.

"Aren't you cold in that?" Harry's words in reference to her wardrobe had startled Fleur. She's just been staring off into the distance, lost in her own private thoughts.

"Non, I've enchanted clothing on. It is expensive but it is worth looking good, non?"

Harry rolled his eyes at her. "If you say so." She smiled at him in response.

"Do you mind if I ask you something, it may seem like a weird question." He was a little tentative, the question had come to him and it was a little strange but it had a purpose.

"What iz the question?" She turned her head to watch him more easily.

Harry took a breath before answering, "You say you like me and I wonder, if you had to choose between me and Gabrielle who would you choose?"

"Why would you ask this?" It was clearly not a question she'd expected, she'd leaned back and looked at him oddly when he asked, she was frowning now.

Harry shrugged, "you don't have to answer." He frowned, mirroring her stance.

She narrowed her eyes and craned her neck forward, "non, it is okay. I do like you 'arry but I love ma jolie petite soeur. I'd die for her. I'd choose her." She didn't really like answering, the answer should be obvious, so why was he asking it?

"Of course and I take no offense in it." He gave her a reassuring look.

"If we were married would you choose me over her?" Harry was watching the water again, not looking at her as he asked.

"If we were married?" She repeated part of the question, starting out her answer, "My maman told me when you marry a man you join together and create a new family, you will raise and have children together and your priority should shift to your new family first. I believe what my maman has told me, I see how well she and papa do together. I 'ope I'd not have to choose though, I 'ope I'd marry a man who loves her too." The entire time she spoke she watched him closely. He'd had a far away look to him but he was clearly listening. There was a faint happiness to him when she explained the concept of starting a new family together.

"At what point does the change occur? When does it go from dating and caring about each other to love and being devoted to that person above all others?"

The questions made a little more sense to her but Fleur felt she was missing the piece that puts it all into perspective. He was asking her about something indirectly related to these questions, but she didn't know what, nor what had prompted them.

"Maybe when you get engaged? That is when you pledge yourselves to one another." She rationalized for him.

"And you think it would gradually build as you date until you get to a point where it becomes like that, to where you'd pledge for each other?" There was a despondent quality to all his questions, a melancholic undertone that she couldn't place a reason for.

"It makes sense. I've not dated seriously nor been engaged so I cannot speak from experience."

Harry brightened at her words, at the first part of what she'd just said. "Thanks Fleur." He told her and placed a hand on her knee.

"I'm glad I can help, 'arry, but I don't know what I helped with." Her pouting make him laugh softly.

"Don't give me that look. It's not much really." He said quickly. "I was just thinking about everything that's gone on recently. Your words gave me hope, that's all." He smiled at her, a full smile that lit up his face.

"You know, while I have you here, there was something I was thinking about showing you." He saw the flash of intrigue in her eyes, "Interested?" He teased.

"Oui!" She sat right up, going back to a kneeling position,her back straight and hands clasped together on her lap.

Harry reached into his pouch, the one he had tucked a sleeping Cuddles into, she wasn't a fan of the cold, and withdrew one of his most prized possessions. He handed his invisibility cloak to Fleur.

"Manifique!" She breathed out, her eyes bulging and her hands running up and down the material. "It is in such good condition. I've never seen one in such a state. It must have cost a lot!" She enthused.

"Quite the opposite actually. It's a family heirloom."

Her head snapped back up from the cloak. "Non, c'est impossible." She said in total disbelief. She analyzed him watching for hints of sarcasm or a joking manner.

"That's not even the most unbelievable part either. I'm showing you this because I need help. I don't really know how this is possible and I was hoping you could help me figure it out."

Fleur nodded and continued to run her hands over the cloak.

"Let me put it on and see if you can detect me." Fleur handed the cloak back to him. Harry stood up and put it on starting with the hood. Like always, he disappeared from sight.

Fleur withdrew her rosewood wand. She incanted the human detection spell _Homenum Revelio_. She looked at her wand in utter disbelief. She repeated her actions and had the same result.

Harry took off the cloak. "Try again." He told her.

"_Homenum Revelio_" She incanted a third time, this time it showed Harry's presence, now that he'd slipped his cloak off.

Her lips barely parted and a word slipped out that simultaneously encapsulated her reaction and description "Incroyable!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine that, a quick update! Won't be one within the same time period; I'm away for a few days. I write when there is time and I was able to find quite a bit of it recently.
> 
> If this is more coherent than the last couple chapters all praise to my wife. She decided to proofread it for me, no user name to credit at this time.
> 
> As always, thanks for following, favoriting & reviewing. PMs are open and I'll see you next chapter.


	20. Revelations in Hogsmeade

"Looking for someone?" A too sweet voice startled Harry from behind.

Harry was standing in the entrance to Hogwarts waiting for the person he was meeting. It hadn't been his idea to meet here, he knew he was being toyed with, to some degree, and yet he'd still agreed to the proposition.

"What would make you think that, Susan?" He casually asked back, still lazily leaning against the stone wall with his shoulder, both his arms and legs crossed, and the weight of his body being supported with his left leg and right shoulder.

"Oh, no reason." She giggled. "I'm sure it has _nothing _to do with taking a certain former snake out to Hogsmeade, no it certainly can't be _that_." She singsonged.

"Why would that be of interest to us, Susie?" Hannah Abbott asked, also walking up from behind him.

The two shared a devious look. "I don't know why we'd ever be so interested in the girl who has refused to go on any kind of date through her _whole_ Hogwarts career, even though she's been asked many, many, many times," her voice dipped at the last part and the Hufflepuff pair stopped just in front of him, getting a little closer than would be considered normal and comfortable.

"You do know she's our best friend." Hannah poked him on the unsupported shoulder, she poked hard enough it unbalanced his leaning against the wall and he had to uncross his loose leg to support himself before returning to that position.

"Auntie being the Director of the DMLE or not, we'll murder you if you hurt her." Susan said with a growl, here eyes ablaze.

Harry had a bit of a hard time not laughing. Here he was getting the older brother routine from two of the sweetest Hufflepuffs. Loyalty was definitely a house trait.

"This wasn't _my_ idea." He informed them. "I asked to speak with Daphne privately and she requested this, not me." He wasn't going to let the two girls push him around, he stood up tall.

"Oh we know." Susan said, her hands finding their way to her hips clenched in fists.

"We also know you've spent time _alone_ with the Beauxbatons champion _and_ Natalia Pavlova. We don't care if you string them along, they aren't our friend. But Daphne?" Hannah had taken the same posture as Susan, hands on hips and both were leaning forward a little now.

"Hurt her and die." They said in unison.

"No two-timing, no playing with her." Hannah added, her naturally pale facing rapidly gaining hue.

Harry put his hands up in mock surrender. "Seems as I'm not going on a date with her I don't see how that's going to be an issue."

Susan patted him on his cheek. "Oh you poor boy," was all she said before she turned around and began to walk away.

Harry looked at Hannah, his eyes full of confusion, his look implored her to help him understand and she responded with a smirk. "You'll figure it out soon enough," she let out a laugh that bit through the empty entry way and then turned her back to him, following Susan as they both left.

Harry was engrossed watching them walk away. He didn't understand what that last bit was about. Was it because she was dangerous, he wondered? Lost in his thoughts he didn't notice Daphne making her way to him, suspiciously right from where Susan and Hannah had just walked out of his line of sight.

"Nice to see you again, Potter." She said with a devilish smirk. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting," she said insincerely. "Anything interesting happen while you were waiting for me?" She stood in front of him, Hogwarts robes no longer on.

If Harry didn't already have experience dealing with two older and incredibly gorgeous women she'd have sent a shiver down his spine. He wasn't worried about being alone with a beautiful girl anymore. This wasn't a date, no matter how much it felt like one, and he could handle dealing with a pretty girl his age, teasing pretty girls was now a favorite pastime afterall.

"As it's not a Hogsmeade weekend, we must walk?" Harry asked, he had always walked to the gates but as it was Daphne's idea to do this get together and he didn't imagine she'd want to walk on a cold dreary wintery night.

She clucked her tongue at him. She looked herself up and down. "Does this look like I'm prepared to walk to the gates of Hogwarts at night?" She bit out sharply at him.

Harry just raised an eyebrow to her and stepped toward her. "And Susan and Hannah thought this was a date." He laughed, "If it is it's got to be a terrible start to one." He grinner and pushed his neck forward with two raised eyebrows, a slight smirk on his face and wide eyes awaiting her next move.

She huffed out an annoyed breath of air and narrowed her eyes at him. She didn't bother retorting and simply commanded, "Follow me."

Harry grinned as she walked ahead of him, she was annoyed at him now and it made him smile. He knew she was smart, everyone knew her grades were impeccable, even though she kept to herself and never bragged or showed off her knowledge. It was her knowledge of him being the Black Regent that had worried him. It wasn't until he spoke with the portrait of Arcturus Black that he understood why. It was that why that led him to meeting with her, though going out to Hogsmeade on a weeknight wasn't something he'd expected.

She led them to a floo and called out her destination, not sparing him a glance nor explanation of where they were going. "Three Broomsticks" she said and left through the fireplace.

Amused, Harry followed stating the same destination and dropping some floo powder into the fireplace. Thankfully he wasn't terrible at this anymore and didn't make an arse out of himself exiting the floo. It would have been the last thing he needed, an annoyed Daphne then him falling arse over tea kettle out of the floo into her.

Harry oriented himself and looked around for his companion for the evening. There she was, talking to Rosmerta. She finished her brief conversation with the woman just as Harry caught up to her.

"We're in a backroom, a private one." She stated simply and moved towards the back.

Harry followed sedately and was glad his thoughts were settled now. The recent conversations with Fleur and Natalia had weighed on him. It was nice to have his mind clear and calm for this. Occlumency was a great help but he'd found it wasn't a wholly suitable aid to a troubled mind. It wasn't meant for it, it was meant for memory recall and defense for intrusions into his mind.

He arrived at the room and sat at the small round table with four chairs, three of them unoccupied. He left a chair between them but did move it, pulling his towards the wall opposite the entrance, so he was closer to a forty-five degree angle to Daphne than one-eighty and was facing the door with full visual command of the room.

When he'd entered the door, he'd felt something, again. He was getting better at recognizing active magic, when he passed through it. It was still not possible for him to know _exactly_ what the feel of the magic was down to the spell or affect it had. However, he was gaining in his ability to have a general idea. A sense of secrecy flitted across his body when he entered into the room and he'd assumed it was privacy wards to keep the information private.

He took his seat and snapped his wand into his hand. He caught Daphne's eyes and she nodded in understanding. Harry quickly put up the standard anti-eavesdropping spells he was aware of and slipped his wand back into the holster. Man did he ever love that holster, wand drawn and dispatched with nary more than a thought and nudge of his magic.

Daphne gracefully crossed her left leg over her right and sat perfectly prim and proper. Her face was impassive and her eyes sharp. She scooted forward in her chair, her back no longer touching the backing and waited for Harry.

"I gather you want me to start seems as I asked for this? Well, not exactly _this_." He gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

The comment failed to elicit any humor from the new Hufflepuff. She dryly commented an explanation for why they were here instead. "Three Broomsticks is known for respecting privacy. Besides, any attention garnered by us meeting here will be put off as a potential date. That juicy bit of gossip will cover for anything else of substance that we would actually wish to keep private."

Harry just rolled his eyes in response. "Thanks, I gathered that and I assume Susan and Hannah's performance was a part of the deception?"

"You do have a brain, how quaint." The uptick on the corners of her mouth was the only indication she wasn't being a total arse to him.

Harry shifted in his seat, "I asked to meet with you because you are a Greengrass and as the Black Regent I was made aware your father was the steward when Arcturus Black was the Head of House Black."

Daphne huffed a little air out her flared nostrils. "And you found out about the potential betrothal contract that you now have and the mess the Black family holdings are now in? So the first thing you do is recall meeting me at the Hufflepuff table and ask to meet after I drop the _ginormous_ clue that I know you are the Regent Black and the potential consequences that could have for me or my family." She drawled out and then promptly motored on.

Did you want to claim me as completion for the contract? Did you want to meet my sister next? Draco loved lording that over us, his father over mine too. Plan to see if either of us will go along with your little harem plans, a Greengrass to add to your French Veela and Russian Ballerina? What are you going to add next an American from the Colonies? Perhaps a little oriental cuisine?" She sneered at him with a viciousness to her tone.

"Going to ask to sample the goods like dear ol darling Draco?" She had her wand in her hand and the tip was glowing an angry red.

Harry's eyes were wide and his back pressed into the chair. He could have snapped out his wand, he was sure he could physically evade her spell, even at the short distance, but he decided not to. Subduing her would not alleviate the situation, it would probably exacerbate it.

"A harem? Oriental cuisine?" Harry was finally processing the end of her anger fuelled speech and he couldn't help but laugh, deep and raucously.

Harry, through his laughter, was able to see Daphne getting irate. Her foot was tapping as if was trying to murder a never ending procession of insects under her feet. The loud thumping wasn't the only clue. Flared nostrils, narrowed eyes and thinned lips were pretty solid clues too.

He thought it best to get his laughter under control, preferably before Daphne gained laser vision and gave him the lobotomy her glare was trying to give him. Harry raised his hands in mock surrender. Internally he frowned, that's the second time he'd done so to a girl his age tonight, not a great track record for the evening, though this was a self-proclaimed disaster of a date… Laughing sardonically at that wouldn't help here, he suppressed the urge too.

"Seems as I'm not _officially_ dating anyone, and the fact that I'm _fourteen_, I'd hope nobody would think I was trying for anything like that. I've never even had _one_ girlfriend let alone multiple at the same time." He shook his head and snorted at how ridiculous the accusations were. "That's not even getting into the fact I don't know anything about a betrothal contract with you."

Daphne's eyes widened and her jaw had lowered enough that her lips had parted slightly. Her upright posture had dropped, only a little, and Harry thought he saw a flash of uncertainty before she was able to keep her schooled countenance.

Not getting a response, Harry prodded further, "I was only able to confirm from the painting of Arcturus Black that I should seek out a Greengrass to begin learning of House Black's current position. His portrait was aware it held very little information. He told me that the role of steward should still be active as only a Regent or Head of House could void it."

"So you don't know about the marriage contract.." Daphne stated her realization and the conclusion it led to, "and you'd just wanted to talk or setup a meeting with father…." A little pink found its way into her cheeks. Sharpness returned to her eyes as she mentally worked through the situation she found herself in.

"Can you tell me about the contract?" Harry asked, he was brimming over with curiosity, his restless leg bouncing up and down.

She smirked at him. "Only if you tell me about your relationships with Fleur and Natalia."

Harry thought about that for a moment. Did he really want to get into girl troubles with another female, one that potentially has a marriage contract with House Black?

"I will," Harry saw the sense of victory wash over her during the pausin in his speech, "once you've informed me of the contract's details." The narrowing of her eyes, and scrunching of her lips was almost like a balm to him. Her frustration fueled his amusement.

"Fine" she huffed out, clearly not quite fine with the arrangement.

She straightened in her chair and brought her chin up ever so slightly. "House Greengrass took over the Stewardship of House Black in the early 1900s. My grandfather, Perseus, was the first in our family to take up the role. He worked closely with Arcturus Black. When his children, and their spouses, to take on more political and financial dealings Perseus passed the role onto my father, Cyrus Greengrass."

"To make a long story short, it was during this time the role of Steward was diminished greatly. Father advised against using wealth and assets to support the Dark Lord and obviously they disagreed. He was stripped of many of his powers and responsibilities and left with nominal abilities as a Steward.

"It was Perseus and Arcturus that had agreed upon a contract for loyal service. A greengrass female would marry the future Heir to the family. Our generation is the first possible timing of it and it has long been assumed Draco would take over headship at seventeen as he is the closest by blood with the fugitive Sirius Black being rendered ineligible for the role by Arcturus when he ran away from home."

A knock on the door interrupted anything further she was going to say. Harry's wand slipped into his hand and he removed the privacy charms he'd previously setup. The door opened and Rosmerta walked in with two butterbeers.

"Here you are my dears." She said warmly while setting the two glasses down on the table. "You know where to find me if you need anything else." She told them as she turned around and departed the room, firmly closing the door once outside it.

Harry had kept his wand out and reapplied the charms. It wasn't that he was worried about Rosmerta overhearing their conversation. It was a habit he was ensuring stayed a part of his routine. He was a target for gossip and he wanted to keep things private. Always being cautious to keep his conversations to those intended was a good habit. He may relax it at some point but not yet. A subtle detection spell on the two drinks showed them void of anything worrisome and he sipped at the drink, inadvertently copying Daphne.

"So you told me that your dad's powers were pretty well stripped and that there was a marriage contract for the heir; but, I'm a regent and there are no eligible heirs." He opened with that statement wanting to get the conversation back rolling along.

Harry was seated in his chair, his wand back in the holster and his right hand a couple inches away from his mug, resting on the table. He was more slouched back and comfortable. His mind ready and active to discern what's going on.

"Draco is an eligible heir." She challenged back. "His mother is a trueborn Black." She said it so matter of factly that Harry knew that she knew he knew this and she didn't know why he would state that when it was so obviously a known fact.

"Regent's have quite a bit of power." He let his words linger. He'd dangled the knowledge but as she stayed silent doubt crept ever faster that she was aware of the full authority.

He put her out of her misery, "Draco is an eligible heir if no other's left within the Black family and the Wizengamot decided to name him the heir so the family did not go extinct. In that circumstance, and that one alone, he could be an eligible heir. Otherwise, my future progeny is the first in line to claim headship of the family. Following that is any progeny of Sirius Black and if neither of us have children then Nymphadora Tonks has been set as the future Regent and could have a child that would then be eligible."

"You removed his mother from the line of succession? How?" It went unsaid she didn't believe it possible.

Harry grinned, he felt like a shark in blood infested waters. Removing Draco Malfoy from consideration had felt so good. Everytime he thought about it he couldn't help but grin. "Narcissa married Lucius Malfoy and the swine tried to murder me at the end of second year…"

Harry trailed off as he saw understanding blossom on Daphne's face. "And having attempted to kill his kin he and his blood relatives could be cast out of the line of succession…" Daphne turned her down and to the right, her eyebrows knit together and she shifted in her chair, "But if magic accepted your claim why isn't he in Azkaban?"

Harry sighed and his shoulders dropped a little, he was similarly let down when he had this explained to him. "Magic accepted he _intended_ to kill me when he began his spell. Dobby blasted him and cut off his attempt to cast the Killing Curse at me. So magic accepted it but he never actually fired a spell. Magically guilty, legally innocent." Harry's lip upturned and his nostrils flared. He dropped his head back against the chair.

"Ah, a shame." She agreed with his disappointment.

"Back to contract explanation?" He questioned.

Though her lips and cheeks shifted into a smile it was clearly not a genuine one. "Yes, back on topic. The assumption was Draco would be inheriting the headship of the family, or, at the very least, the regency. Narcissa and Lucius were aware of the contract and the option they had to enact it for either myself or my younger sister, Astoria, if he gained headship. They attempted to leverage that over our family. Not knowing if they held the guillotine over neck or not we had to be prudent and accede to _some_ of their demands."

She shook herself out of her far away look. Harry noticed her knuckles had whitened briefly before she relaxed her tenseness. "I thought it prudent to be in Slytherin with Draco but still kept him at length, we aren't close. But, there was always the chance he would hold the future of myself or my sister and they pressured father to use his limited powers to do things that would benefit the Malfoy family."

Harry rolled his eyes. She was giving him information but not what he was wanting to know. She was setting expectations and making excuses for something. He had yet to get a full accounting of the Black wealth and assets. The estate was wholly disorganized with papers missing and a mess of transactions that didn't make sense. Arcturus' painting was close to useless. The lead to the Greengrasses was the only useful thing he really helped with. It was clear to Harry the portrait was not imparted with much in the way of secrets of the family.

"And the contract?" He had to ask again.

Daphne had the mug of butterbeer halfway to her and she slowly drank some before carefully putting it back down in front of her, delaying her answer, again.

"The contract is for the next heir to marry, as I'd said. But, a Regent Black could renegotiate it as long as they was agreeance with the head of my family. Whether Draco was the Head of the family or the Regent of it mattered little. They could remove father as Steward and any ties we had to the family and maintaining that contract to be used at their discretion at a later time." She looked at him with that same keen gaze she'd had when she seemed to know more than he'd felt comfortable with back at the Hufflepuff table.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of that, especially given Susan's comment earlier. Was she warning him Daphne was going to be another player in the sweepstakes dating him? It seemed like she was more in favor of enacting the contract now than letting it linger. He could understand that, get it over with instead of potentially having it affect your own children.

"Your comments indicate that the Malfoy's made life difficult unless your father was willing to cooperate? Did they demand things not of benefit to the Black family?" Harry carefully scrutinized Daphne to see if her body language was giving anything away, he wasn't expecting it.

Daphne sat a little straighter, almost rigid, "Yes. Father has it all detailed in case something like this happened. But, finding out when a contract ends, what the rents are for a property, what land is vacant, what a supplier charges, and so on and so forth, provides business information that can be used to your advantage. With only the ability to renew existing contract, and not negotiate new ones, the Malfoy's were able to steal away business from the Black family." She was strained in her delivery, the news was not going to be received well, she knew it and still was sure to deliver it. "The Black revenus have dropped sharply and much of what was lost went to the Malfoy family, not in ways that would be considered illegal, amoral sure, but not criminal." She wasn't pulling any punches here, she was letting him know the bare facts.

Harry slumped back in his chair. He had a sour look on his face. This was going to be worse than he'd hoped for. He groaned and shook his head back and forth slowly.

Why couldn't life be simple for once?

Relationships, a deadly tournament, dark lords, politics, business, finance and legal issues! He was 14! He shouldn't be dealing with all this hippogriff shit!

Harry took slow deliberate breaths. Getting worked up or overwhelmed wouldn't help. The list was long, seemingly growing by the day, and all he could do is focus on one task at a time, slowly chip away at it as fast and strategically as possible.

He brought his right hand to his forehead and rubbed it back and forth. Withdrawing it again he sat up and focused back on the rooms other occupant. "What is your play or request then?" Realizing he needed to be more specific he clarified, "I'm asking about the contract and the stewardship."

Daphne had started to say something when Harry cut off any attempt with his clarification. She pressed her lips together and deliberately didn't respond right away, she waited until she knew exactly what she wanted to say before she spoke.

"The contract was originally intended for my father's generation. Had he had a sister it would already be complete. Unfortunately, the Greengrass line has only been able to have a single birth before the Lady is incapable of having further children." She looked pained to say such a thing.

"Incapable of having further children?" Harry questioned that, what did that even mean?

Daphne's face tightened and a hardness came to her eyes. "Yes, incapable." She almost grunted out.

Harry took that in impassively but he wasn't going to just accept that. "Look, ostensibly you are hinting that your family would like the contract completed with me than I deserve to know what this incapability is." His voice carried a harder edge to it but he wasn't going to force the information out of her. If they wanted to possibly entertain the idea of him courting one of their daughters they'd tell him or he'd not consider it, that was their choice to make.

"Ostensibly? Really Harry? Are you reading a dictionary wherever you are hiding out and learning?" SHe mocked him with a smile on her face, obviously deflecting from what he'd just asked.

Harry decided to take it in jest and chuckled. "I'm growing up." He said, shrugging.

"I can tell." She muttered low enough that Harry wondered if she'd meant for him to be able to hear, or even voice it at all.

Harry let the gap in conversation wane, he had an idea he wanted to put out there still. He'd let Daphne pick the next direction of the conversation, continue on the current topic or head toward something else. He picked up his mug and drank some more.

Daphne watched him drink and frowned, she was warring with herself on what to say. WIth her eyes downcast she decided to explain her earlier comment. "The Greengrass line fled here centuries ago, around five or so ago. We were almost wiped out due to a blood feud and we've worked to rebuild our families position since. There is one thing… one curse that still affects us from that time."

Harry was surprised at her tone, it sounded so despondent, and she wasn't even meeting his eyes. This was heavy, his inner voice still wondered if it was an act, he didn't know if she was a good actress or not but wouldn't discount the possibility.

Unaware of his thoughts, Daphne had continued speaking. "There was a curse placed on our family trying to ensure our line ended. It was supposed to stop future generations from being born but it didn't. Instead, it seems only one child can be born to each Lady Greengrass. My Grandfather was an only child, my father is an only child, and my mother only bore me."

Harry tilted his head in response and was disconcerted. Her words didn't make sense, and obviously so. "You have a sister." He retorted blandly, a statement of fact.

"Yes." She said, her eyes lifting up to reach the height of his gaze on her. "I was born to Cynthia Greengrass, the first wife of Cyrus Greengrass, Astoria is the daughter of Cyrus and Dorothy Greengrass." She informed him in a tone mostly void of emotion.

"Oh." Now Harry felt like a cad.

"Mother died giving birth to what would have been my younger brother. He was stillborn."

The words cut through the room leaving an uncomfortable silence.

"Is Dorothy a good step mother?" Harry asked tentatively, after wracking his brain for something to ask to kill the awkwardness.

"She died in childbirth as well." She told him, her face cold and impassive.

Just when things couldn't have been more weird…. "Sorry for your losses" Harry told her trying to be polite and at the behest of his limited emotional intelligence for these situations.

"It's long in the past." She said simply, regaining more of her normal self.

Harry was _really_ hesitant to ask the question that was yearning to escape his mouth. In for a knut in for a galleon he thought to himself, deciding to just go for it. "Will it affect you?"

Her eyes bored into him, cold, hard and intense. He could see she had not liked being asked that and it had raised her ire. "Yes." She said scathingly. "I'll only be able to bear one child, Astoria too."

"What was done to your family to cause such a thing? I've never heard of anything like that!"

Daphne gave a bitter smile to Harry. "A bloodline curse they call it. A ritual done to our bloodline."

"A- a ritual?" Harry asked carefully, he was no expert but he was learning quite a lot about them. Anyone doing at least two rituals per week, forty-nine in total, couldn't help but learn about them. Salazar had copious notes on the rituals, their ingredients, the preparation and their effects. He'd not come across anything like this so far but it was possible the knowledge of how to do, and possibly undo, was within the Chamber of Secrets.

He wasn't about to blurt out the fact he was well acquainted with them and may possibly working within the walls housing invaluable insight into rituals. He'd be keeping that secret from everyone, Dobby, his bound elf, would be the only one to know.

Daphne ran her hand through her hair, "yes, a dark ritual. They'd captured the Head of our House and did some form of bloodline curse through a ritual. It was a blood feud and they were trying to end our line."

"But it didn't work?"

She sighed, "No, and the only real idea we know about it is that the ritual was disrupted somehow, or failed to work as intended." It was something her family didn't speak openly but in pureblood circles it was kind of obvious to anyone that paid attention. Greengrass women, and women that carried their blood, within their womb, were only able to have one child. They didn't want to introduce that issue into their own lines. It left them with poor prospects of marriage. If Harry asked around he'd find this out.

Harry was trying to hide his curiosity in the issue. It fascinated him. He was using rituals to improve himself and the facet of using them to destroy your enemies wasn't something he'd even considered. He was being led like a bridled horse and hadn't considered anything beyond where he'd been led. Experimenting on himself was terrible idea but experimenting on enemies that needed to die, while not ethical, was a possible route. He shivered, the line of thought was not one he'd have had before his school year had gone off the rails. It scared him that his mind brought it up and what was worse, the lack of horror at the idea. Was Salazar leading him down a dark, depraved path?

"What did that have to do with the Black family and marriage contract?" Harry asked, breaking out of his thoughts.

Daphne had returned to her more natural state, poised and collected, as she answered. "My grandfather, and father, sought ways to remove the curse and the Black family is known for having an extensive library. They'd found a way to weaken it but it didn't go as they had hoped. My generation is the first to have two Greengrass children since the curse but the cost paid for it was terrible. Still, they had limited success as there are now two of us." There was a tightening around her eyes as she proclaimed the success of what her forebears had done.

"But as a Steward much of the knowledge is hidden. Only those bearing the name Black can access the family portion of the library. It was our hope that a marriage contract would allow for us to have full access and to find a solution."

Harry was perplexed by that, things didn't quite make sense. "Hold on, that doesn't match what you'd just said. Why would the Black family agree to marry a woman in your family if it would introduce the curse to their offspring as well? If it was to marry the heir that would pass the curse onto the main line of the family." He was incredulous as he explained it.

"Ah, muggle raised, I forgot you may not know." Daphne replied. Harry looked at her with obvious inquisitiveness.

"The contract wasn't for a daughter of our house to be the _only_ bride of the heir, nor did it guarantee the offspring would ever be named heir." Daphne explained, obvious discontent with the possible situation.

"Not the only bride?"

"You heard correctly." She told him, leaking into her voice.

Harry blinked slow, long and deliberate. He squeezed his eyes shut and wondered if reality was still occuring around him. Two wives? What a mess that would be!

"Nope, I'm going to ignore that. Two girls sound great to a guy's wet dreams but the reality of it? There's a reason you wake up and the idea is total bollocks." Harry wasn't even entertaining the idea. "It's hard enough to consider one girlfriend but two? Then marrying both? No favoritism, dealing with being married to two women at once? Having two families at the same time. Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope. Insanity." Harry motored off the first thoughts on marrying two women. There was no workable solution in his mind and he'd not even consider the ridiculous idea. The sexual side he could understand there could be benefits but everything else? Nope, no way, never going to work.

Daphne laughed at his horrified response, it was so genuine and not what she'd experienced in the wizarding world, namely purebloods like Draco Malfoy. She laughed a long and richly.

"You've got to be the first male scared of marrying two women by the downsides of it than rejoicing at the upsides." She was wiping away the extra moisture that had pooled in the corner of her eyes as she commented.

Harry laughed a little himself but having a proper family was a deep desire for him. The Mirror of Erised had shown his want at eleven correctly. He wanted a family, desired it, and now that he'd noticed women are not males lacking dangling appendages between their legs he suspected the mirror would now show him the desire for his past and future family living whole and healthy lives.

"You tell me how that would even work." He told her somewhat grumpily, he was a bit put out that she'd laughed so much at his response.

She smiled at him, they were getting more comfortable around each other, though no less guarded. "Easy, it's been done for centuries in the wizarding world. What you don't understand is how marriage is viewed. It's a political thing, not a casual date whomever you'd like and divorce someone if things aren't working. There isn't a clause to break the contract and as they are magical contracts you don't have issues many Muggles would."

"Take divorce as an example. It's not possible, the magical contracts are binding. Only if there is a specific provision for it to be exercised would it be possible. But, in our culture marriage is a lifelong commitment. I can't name anyone who would have that clause in a contract. Then you have infidelity. Again, in a magical contract, it is a term and you won't be able to cheat on a spouse, it's that simple." She seemed to be enjoying giving Harry somewhat of a crash course on magical marriage. If her facial expressions were anything to go by she was clearly amused by it.

"Okay," He started out drawing out the word as he put his thoughts together, there was an obvious thing his brain was putting together.

"Ah! What about Death Eaters? They were said to have raped and tortured. How would they be able to do that if they weren't able to cheat on their spouses?" He knew there must have been a number of married purebloods in their ranks and the two facts didn't align.

Daphne wrinkled her nose in disgust, "There are loopholes with every contract." She said with disdain. "Muggles aren't considered much more than beasts as they lack magic, the defining trait of a man or woman by wizarding standards. Thus, rape of a muggle woman wouldn't be against the terms of the contract."

"Oh." Harry said softly. His stomach was strained with the gut wrenching worldview she'd just informed him of. It was disgusting.

"And the witches who were raped?" He asked, he'd been told of what happened to some families and rape was evident and a form of warning other families to fall into step or risk the same happening to their wives and daughters, they'd done it so there were no questions as to whether it had happened or not.

Daphne's face tightened again and Harry wondered if it was possible her family had been threatened with such things. They were neutral, he'd already checked to the best of his abilities, and if they were aligned closely with the Blacks they should have fallen into line with the majority who'd supported Voldemort.

"I can think of two possibilities. The rape could have been done only by unmarried individuals. Secondly, there are sometimes provisions for enemies to be considered chattel, or spoils of war, and such a status would render them into the non-human status like muggles. It's not unheard of in centuries past…" She let her voice trail out, it wasn't pleasant to think about.

"Kind of wish I hadn't asked." Harry muttered.

Daphne cleared her throat to regain his concentration. She took a quick sip of her drink before speaking. "That leads us back to the contract. Our family was nearly successful on the last attempt and the contract was agreed to as a way to reward us for our loyalty and as a cost for access to their library a daughter would be married into the Black family, ensuring our allegiance for generations to come."

Harry looked at her skeptically, "And you'd be willing to go along with that? You'd want to be one of the wives I could take? Not the only wife I take?" He asked, not believing a woman would want to be in that position.

Daphne sat back in her chair but kept her posture upright and proper. "It's either me, my sister, or our children. If I pay the price and am successful in removing the curse it would free our family and keep my sister out of it." She said impassively. Harry noted she'd cut off her emotions after freely showing them.

"It's not like you are Malfoy. You're not dangling potentially abusing my sister, or myself, over my head. You're not showing up with demands to extort our family. Given that you are a Potter and Regent Black you will need more than one child and I cannot give that to you."

Harry thought she looked like she'd like to say more but she'd closed her open mouth and not said anything further.

"Was this what Susan and Hannah were going on about? She commented 'you poor boy' and, now that I've talked to you, I guess that's why? They know about your predicament?"

Daphne nodded slowly, a hardness was easily seen in her eyes.

"You are right," Harry started out, he kept focus on her as he spoke now, he wanted the seriousness and sincerity to come across properly, "I am muggle raised. But I'm learning, learning as quick as I can." He ran through his messy hair and down his neck. "I'm trying to find my way through all this but it's a lot to learn. Now this." He dropped his head and shook it back and forth. "How in the blood hell am I to even consider having a secondary wife?" He threw his hands up in the air, palms up.

"I can see it now, 'Hey want to date me? I should just let you know I'm engaged to another girl but I'm looking for a wife cause she can only give me one kid and I"ll need a bunch.' Quite the pick-up line, isn't it? Who the bloody hell would go for that, it's ridiculous." Harry bristled just at the thought of how well that would go, he pictured asking Hermione and how quickly he'd have a handprint on his cheek, if he was lucky enough to not have a broken nose. He didn't even want to consider asking her dad, he might be a dentist but what father wants his daughter to be married off to a guy who will be having a side family? Insanity.

Daphne seemed to get some perverse sort of merriment from this. "That's easy to answer, I'd say Natalia would welcome it and possibly even Fleur."

"What? No way!" There was no tempering that response, it was natural and blurted out loudly before his brain could consider doing anything else.

"Yes way!" She retorted giggling at the dubious look Harry was giving her. It reminded her a childish arguments she used to get into with Astoria adding to her already happy countenance.

"No way!" Harry riposted, lightly laughing at their childish bickering now too.

Daphne hummed, "mmmmmhmmmmmm" She drew it out and exaggerated it with overemphasized head bobs.

"Fine then, explain." Harry pouted back at her, crossing his arms, humor still finding ways to evidence itself by keeping his attempt to frown from succeeding.

She smirked at him and Harry still didn't understand why she was enjoying this. She was pretty well asking to change the contract to marry him and be a wife while needing another one! Women didn't make any sense!

"Of course. What is Natalia's favorite thing, Harry?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, that is an obvious answer… where was this leading? "Dancing, ballet specifically."

"And what kind of schedule does a professional ballerina keep?" Daphne asked immediately, building off of his comment.

"A busy one?"

Daphne a short hollow laugh hollowly at his naivety. "Busy? It's a lifestyle, an all encompassing focus. Eating correctly, physical conditioning, skill improvements and medical upkeep are just one facet. While learning they would rehearse eight hours a day six days a week, that's not including what I first stated nor the warmup and cooldown work. You can bet on 10 hour days 6 days a week anytime they are in rehearsal. And during performances? You wouldn't see her unless she's sleeping or performing. This would be her schedule for, at minimum, 45 weeks per year, and during the off weeks, she'd be working on keeping up or improving her physical conditioning and bettering her own skills." The rebuke was more informative than Harry would have guessed. He knew Natalia trained hard but hadn't realized just how dedicated the profession required.

"Oh." He lamely stated.

"Yah, 'oh'. Did you never think of just why her family didn't want her to pursue ballet? And don't look at me like that's some kind of secret, everyone that is politically inclined is aware of that open secret." She glowered at him when he looked upset at her comment about her family not wanting her to do what she loved.

"How do you think she'd make for a wife? You're complaining about the possibility of a second wife but if you married Natalia you'd be her second husband! She's already married to her career. You'd get the scraps, what's left over of her time and energy. And kids? You think she wants to pop out lots of kids when each one will ruin a year of her career and destroy all the hard work of perfecting her body for ballet?" The chastising remarks from her removed Harry's chary attitude to her words. She'd thought this out and he had not.

"So you think she'd be for it because another wife would alleviate her need to fulfill the duties of a wife, letting her focus on her career?" Harry asked, thinking he had her reasoning figured out.

Daphne softened her tone from the biting remarks she had been making. "I don't know for sure but I'd hazard a guess she wants her career more than anything, anyone. Her family would be appeased by a marriage to you and they'd have a clause about which heir she would bear, whether it's Potter of Black. Then they have found a good match for her and if you wish to allow her to fulfill her dreams they wouldn't care, they'd have washed their hands of her. She'd married off well and to the benefit of her family, just as they'd always expected and wanted."

Harry had suppressed a wince when Daphne said Natalia would want her more career than 'anyone'. At this point, it was probably true.

"So where does that leave us?" Harry asked. He was tired of having all these ridiculous issues to sort out. Instead of just sorting out _who_ he may want to date he may now need to consider who and how many.

Daphne sat up straight, on the edge of her seat, and daintily folder her hands into her lap, ensuring she looked the picture perfect regal young lady. "I know father would like to open up the contract and allow for marriage to the Regent Black. It is a lesser position than the future Head of the family and to the Black family's benefit. We'd ask no recompense for it other than selecting myself as the bride and ensuring it is to you and not to someone else you'd be eligible to pass the role onto, like Sirius Black, the convict, or Draco Malfoy."

"About that…. You said the Steward could handle legal issues?" Harry asked, a sly plan coming to mind.

"Yes." She responded shortly.

"I've a proposition then." A grin formed on his face.

"A proposition?" she asked, equally intrigued and leery.

"Yes. Let's call it a gesture of good faith." Harry really liked this idea.

Daphne stared at him, refusing to respond until she knew more.

"I won't be accepting or rejecting the discussion on the contract. I'd like you dad to work with a contact of mine that wishes for a closer relation to me. I'd like him to fulfill his role as Steward and right a terrible wrong done to a Son of House Black." Harry was smiling and almost bouncing with energy now, he was excited about this.

"What wrong was done to a Son of House Black? Something to you?" Daphne's face showed concentration and her fingers were restless in her lap as she tried to figure out what he could be talking about.

"Me? No. I'm talking about the lack of trial and wrongful imprisonment of Sirius Black."

Daphne gasped. "No, that's not possible. Wallaburga and Arcturus were both alive, they'd have never allowed it."

"Really? The man that wrote Sirius out of the ability to inherit headship and the woman who was said to have publicly disowned him? You don't think they'd have lifted a finger to help him?" Harry asked harshly.

"Yes." Daphne responded emphatically. "Allowing someone to wrong your House and not responding is a grave weakness. Father should have known and there is no way Susan's Auntie would stand for that." She was vehement in her response.

"Amelia wouldn't but what about Barty Crouch? He was the Director of the DMLE then. Regardless, I've met him. Multiple times and he's _never_ done anything to her me, his godson." It was a risk to let Daphne know about that but if her family was beholden to the Black's he wasn't without leverage of his own.

"What?" She demanded. "You've met him?"

"Not just him," Harry smirked, "I've met the man who actually sold out my parents, Peter Pettigrew. He ratted them out and then framed Sirius, faking his own death." Harry told her earnestly.

A wide eyed Daphne sat back and thought about everything she'd just been told. "You're wanting to get him a trial. But what if he's not innocent?"

Harry shrugged, "I'm certain he is but if he's a murderer that should be in Azkaban he'd be returned there." It probably sounded callous but he honestly couldn't fathom that possibility.

"Except he'd get he Kiss. He escaped once and they'd make sure he got the Kiss instead of returning and chancing another escape. Could you deal with your godfather being soulless?"

"It won't come to that." Harry really believe that. "I've seen Pettigrew, I've talked with Sirius many times and been with him in person. Pettigrew had the Dark Mark and Sirius doesn't. It's pretty obvious."

"If you're sure." It wouldn't matter to Daphne but she knew it had the capacity to really hurt Harry given how defensive he'd been about the man. "I can let my father know to look into it though you may need to return some of his responsibilities so he is able to work on your family's behalf."

"That's fine. I can do that later this week. I'll ask my contact to get in touch. He should be helpful if he's connected as he claims to be."

"Who would that be?" Daphne asked, intent on finding that out.

"Horace Slughorn." He wasn't a lawyer and couldn't help out directly on that himself. But, if he was as politically connected as he claimed he could smooth this out and begin working behind the scenes to pave the way. Harry had his own possibilities, Director Bones, hiring his own legal council, and his favorite reporter. It would be quite the coup if she broke the news and Sirius turned out to be free. Perhaps an interview to be printed to get the public doubting his status as a convict.

"You're getting quite connected, Harry Potter. Pavlov, Delacour and now Slughorn himself. The man who curried favor with half the prominent graduates from Hogwarts in his own time and then followed it up with creating a club for people he could garner future support from for over half a decade. The only men who could claim to be as connected would be Dumbledore and, perhaps, Malfoy. He'd be an amazing resource, though he was supposed to have retired from his job and politicking, he's been rather quite since the early-mid 80s."

Harry shrugged again, "I had dinner with him the other night. He plans to put together a little get together soon and introduce me to some people, he's quite the potions teacher too." Harry couldn't help but add that last part, everyone knew how awful Snape was at teaching.

Daphne stood and nodded at him, "Susan was right, life won't be boring around you."

Harry chuckled, "You've no idea."

She raised her eyebrow at him but when no follow up was coming she put out her arm. "As my potential betrothed, aren't you going to escort me out?"

Harry rolled his eyes and moved around the table to take her arm. As they took a step towards the door Harry realized he'd not asked one thing. He stopped abruptly, keeping hold of Daphne's arm so she mirrored his action.

"What about Fleur? You told me why Natalia might be okay with sharing me but why would Fleur?" He was really curious to know now, he'd not realized the reality of what dating, or marrying, a ballerina would entail and wanted to know if there was something equally obvious he was missing with Fleur.

"You don't know? I thought you didn't ask because you already knew, it's obvious she likes you but I've not seen you reciprocate…" She'd quirked her head at him before she spoke.

"No, I don't know." Harry told her.

"Ah, well, interspecies marriages make it hard to conceive. That's why there are so few so called half-breeds, like Fleur, Flitwick, Hagrid and Madame Maxime."

"What?" He said turning towards her. That wasn't what he was anticipating to hear.

"Fleur has one sibling, a sister who is 9 years younger. That age gap isn't intentional. They tried for a son and may still be for all I know."

"How do you know that?" Harry was a little skeptical but so far she'd been honest, at least, as far as he could tell, and so he was not fully distrusting of her words. He wasn't sure that the Delacour's would let something like that be well known.

"Father researched the possibility of other races being able to be a loophole around the bloodline curse. From what he found there were constant issues with it and a primary reason there are not little half veela running around everywhere."

Harry's head dipped back and he narrowed his eyes at the last part.

"What, you don't think more men wouldn't have loved to marry veela and have lots of offspring with them? Part of their magic is their beauty and ability to influence men. By rights they should be marrying tons of family." Daphne said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I guess so." He was still a little hesitant to believe it fully.

"Look, I don't know for sure but I believe my father. Fleur isn't a full veela, it might not be an issue but it may well be. If I were you and if I was considering dating her I'd look into it." She smirked at him, and added one more thought, "The only way I wouldn't be concerned is if I was a Weasley, they don't have breeding problems."

Harry looked at Daphne oddly and once he'd gotten over his surprise at her playfully joking about the family he smiled. He actually enjoyed their chat tonight. For dealing with a former Slytherin it was pretty pleasant. Harry repositioned himself so he would be escorting Daphne out of the room properly but she was giggling too much to leave.

She opened her mouth, fighting back giggles and told him what was giving her the fit of giggles she was experiencing. "Can you imagine what their kids might look like? A red-headed freckle-faced part veela Weasley!"

The mental image was too much, he understood why she couldn't control herself and succumbed to laughter himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure between the last chapter being published and this one being posted there were some nice round numbers hit on things fanfic tracks, well, now they have been surpassed. They are as follows: 500k views, 4k follows, 3k favorites, and 1k reviews. The story has had far more of a following than I would have ever guessed. So thanks for that!
> 
> The two previous chapters were written within 4 days but this one took a whole month! Most of that is just life being busy but I'm also debating between this being a 1 year fic or pushing it into a second. It needs to be decided quickly as I'll have to lay the groundwork for the second year plot arc or start reeling things towards an ending, not that an ending is imminent, the 2nd task hasn't even been completed yet. Most of my resistance is the time commitment for writing a longer fic.
> 
> My wife hasn't had time to beta this yet, she may or may not. This has been in this state for 5 days now. We're just busy it seems.


	21. The Real Secret

"_Homeo Revelio_" Harry incanted and then watched as the spell located Fleur again.

The beautiful young witch poked her head out of the cloak and was scowling fiercely. "Non, ça ne devrait pas fonctionner comme ça!" She exclaimed, much to Harry's confusion.

"Err, in english please, I don't get french." He knew better than to antagonize her when she was already heavily annoyed with the results of the experiments that they were conducting.

She glowered at him and fully removed the his invisibility cloak. " I said, it shouldn't work this way!"

"Oh, I kind of like it." Harry teased, he knew he shouldn't but he couldn't help himself.

"Of course you do." She said and used her free hand to throw her hair behind her shoulders, sending it sprawling down across her back. "The cloak protects you but not me! Never me! It should be both, or none!" She threw the offending item at Harry, vexxed at even just touching the garment.

Harry snatched it and shrugged. "Could it be because it's a Potter heirloom, like it only works properly for a Potter?" It was his best guess as to why the cloak protected him from the spell designed to reveal human presence whether they were under invisibility enchantments or not.

Fleur didn't dignify him with a response. She pointed to the second item on her list and had Harry don the cloak again.

"This time I'll listen for your footsteps and if I don't hear you the first time I'll use an amplitude charm so I hear better." She was determined to figure out the limitations of the cloak and was upset at the baffling results. The cloak acted like a normal invisibility cloak when Harry was not using it, in respect to the revealing charm, for both humans, animals and objects. There were no links or magical bonds between Harry and his cloak, as far as she was able to discern.

"Amplification charm." Harry corrected, a grin forming on his face.

She glared at him so he ducked his head under the cloak, it was hard to glare at someone you couldn't see.

Fleur loved this kind of thing. She thrived in the academic world and was really glad Harry had asked for help with figuring out his cloak. She kind of hoped that this result would prove it to be normal and, yet, at the same time, she hoped it wouldn't be different, so that the item would be some kind of unique and powerful artifact. That it only worked in amazing ways for Harry would _greatly_ annoy her though.

"Okay, 'arry, start."

Harry nodded, though his action was unnoticed by his companion as his head was cloaked. He then began pacing back and forth along the line Fleur had just drawn with her wand on the ground.

Fleur watched carefully but saw nothing, as expected. She concentrated hard and couldn't hear anything. She cast the amplification charm on herself and did her best to listen for any noise his movements were making. She heard nothing.

A whole minute passed before Harry stopped and took off the cloak. "Well?" He promoted.

Fleur grimaced, his voice was incredibly loud with the charm, it was similar to a sonorus charm but instead of projecting your voice loudly it did the opposite, projecting all the hearable noises loudly, as if they were all affected by a sonorus.

She took the spell off herself and shook her head. "Nothing. I 'eard nothing!"

Harry gave her a lopsided grin. "Cloak 2 Fleur 0."

Upon hearing his words she whirled her wand on him and shot a stinging hex. The spell flew out of her wand and hit Harry, who was not paying attention, right in the right buttocks.

"Ow!" He grabbed the sore spot on his arse and glowered at Fleur. He took a second to compose himself and then responded in a different tact than he would have employed not too long ago.

"Didn't realize you were so interested in my arse."

Harry enjoyed his comment catching her off guard. She'd not expected it and was momentarily surprised. "C'est toi qui s'intéresse à ma derrière" She responded lifting her chin and looking down her nose at him.

She spun on the spot and moved back to the paper to see the next test. She swayed her hips and suddenly looked back, after taking a few steps, to catch where Harry's line of sight was. "c'est vrai" she said primly, huffing a breath out her nose.

"English Fluer! English! I've only got bonjour in my french vocabulary!"

"If you choose not to learn such a beautiful language zen zat is your fault!" She turned her head back to the paper, ignoring Harry for the moment.

"Mah derriare means ' my arse'? C'est is 'it is'? Interessent is probably 'interesting' so you said my arse is interesting? That's kind of you to admit that! A guy always appreciates praise from the fairer sex." He said cheerily.

Fleur turned back towards him, her wand levelled at him again. "I said, 'it is you who are interested in my behind'. Then, 'it is true' after your eyes were glued to my behind when I walked away. I am just too irrésistible, non?"

"Are you sure? I could ask someone to translate you know."

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Not wiz your pronunciation you cannot, it's 'intéresse à ma derrière' not whatever 'orrid words you 'appen to butcher."

"Now back to the test. It is my turn with the cloak." She strode up to him and snatched it from him, put it on and told him to count to three and she would start.

"Un, deux, trois." Harry counted and then he listened carefully. He could hear the sound of her footfalls clear as day and abruptly told her so.

She threw off the cloak, letting it pool on the ground, and walked back to the paper noting the results. "Fine, then it is time to test with light, to see if you cast a shadow."

Harry nodded and donned the cloak once more.

"Invisibility cloaks normally don't cast shadows right?" Honestly Harry was surprised by all these tests, especially that his cloak was special. He was muggle raised and had assumed all invisibility cloaks functioned as his did. It wasn't until he'd read up on the revealing spells, when he was trying to figure out just what Cuddles was, that he'd stumbled across the information that his cloak shouldn't have hidden him from that charm.

"Non, they do not."

Harry nodded, "so just one test then."

"Oui."

"I'm ready when you are." Harry let her know. The testing was a bit tedious and he didn't want to hide away all day in this abandoned classroom, one that was importantly derelict of portraits.

Fleur cast a spell that created a bright orb of light and had it at a forty-five degree angle above Harry and off to his right. With the cloak not fully on there was a partial shadow. With the cloak there was no shadow, as expected.

Fleur marked her paper down, crossing off another test and then was ready to move onto the next one. "That's soul detection, sight, and sound. Physical touch we already know it doesn't protect from," she shot him a dark look for previously bumping into her, "I don't think it matters if someone can taste and I already know I cannot smell you under the cloak."

"You do?" One of Harry's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Of course, I tested it earlier and I'm sure you would be able to smell me just like you could hear me." She told him.

"Alrighty then, anything left you wanted to test?" They'd covered the five senses already.

"Of course." She rejoined. "Wards and spells still need to be tested."

Right, he wasn't a muggle. They had to test magic too.

Fleur delicately worked with her rosewood wand and began building a simple ward. Harry watched, fascinated. He wasn't quite up to this level of proficiency. He had a ways to go with runes and building schemes of them. He'd just started runes this year and couldn't be expected to be anywhere close to Fleur if she was a 7th year and had been studying for four years.

"Bon, the ward is ready. Cross is with your cloak on." She instructed him after breaking her intense concentration on her task.

Harry did as asked, slipping the cloak back on fully and he strode across the ward and took it off. "What was it supposed to do?" He was puzzled and although he had felt _something_ he wasn't able to discern what that something was.

FLeur's mouth was wide open. "Merde!" She exclaimed when he reappeared. "C'est impossible!"

"It's impossible? Don't think so, Fleur." Harry said sarcastically.

"You walked over the ward? You didn't go around it?" She asked quickly, ignoring his remark.

"Of course." He said, slightly offended.

"Do it again." She instructed.

Harry just decided to listen. This was something impossible so why not indulge her. He repeated his earlier actions and Fleur was no less shocked, her one arm was crossed, holding her opposing arm's elbow while her other hand was covering her open mouth.

"I must try." She declared and Harry handed her the cloak.

Harry watched her disappear and then reappear. As she got to the ward it blasted her back, toppling her backwards and causing her to land on her arse heavily.

Harry had no idea what she was saying but given the anger she was expressing he assumed she was swearing and saying unpleasant things in french. Oddly enough it didn't sound all that bad, maybe Fleur was right and French was a beautiful language.

"And here I was wondering what the ward did." He gaily commented as he offered her a hand up, he couldn't help but laugh at the spectacle he'd just seen. He'd certainly never had expected to see a proper lady like Fleur go flying backwards and land painfully on her arse, especially when in her school skirt.

"That was supposed to be you, not me." Fleur grumped. She accepted Harry's hand up and stood up. The hand not holding her wand rubbed her rump as it had taken quite a bump. "I was so excited your cloak ignored the ward I forgot it probably wouldn't work for me." She pouted with her bottom lip protruding. "But this is so amazing!" She breathed the comment out. "Do you know how special this is?" She gestured the his family heirloom.

Harry was half listening as he was trying to recall what the ward had felt like so he could try and connect what he had felt with what he now knew. Harry had read upon feeling the magic around him and how to train it. Apparently a lot of experience. Exposure to foreign magic was highly recommended as it would subconsciously train your magic to recognize the foreign magic and thus your ability to detect magic that wasn't your own.

"Err, not really?" He responded. It wasn't quite a true statement. If his cloak was allowed him to waltz through wards and not allow his soul to be detected it was an amazing tool for theft and espionage.

"Wards are the primary, and often the sole, form of defense and protection in the wizarding world! Goblins ward their vaults, families ward their homes, and the ministry will ward anything of value. Our whole society uses magical wards because they are so effective at defense and protection! Nobody lives in castles or has enchanted guardians because they aren't needed!" Fleur narrowed her eyes and poked him now. "And here you are, with this cloak that only works for you and it allows you to waltz through wards!"

"People really only use wards to protect things?" He asked, even muggles used things like a safe, wouldn't those in the magical world.

She scoffed at him, "Of course they use more than just that for valuables but you could break into almost anywhere without being caught! The ministry, hogwarts, beauxbatons, and probably even Gringotts! Almost nowhere would be safe from you!" Fleur was talking quickly and almost rambling as she spoke the thoughts that came into her head. She was trying to get her mind around this discovery but it was just so unprecedented. It shouldn't be possible!

"You can't tell _anyone_ about this. If people learned about it you'd never get peace! You'd be hunted for the cloak and its secrets!"

"What?! You're exaggerating things now." He told her, trying to add some levity back as this had gotten very serious very quickly.

"Non! I'm not explaining the danger enough! You _must_ swear everyone to secrecy who knows about your cloak! You can't reveal it's abilities to _anyone_. If it gets out that your cloak can do this ministries will try and seize it, criminals will do anything to possess it and powerful people will hire people to steal it from you, probably murder you too." She was glaring at him, doing her best to make sure he understood this was life and death type information.

"It's worse than your last Dark Lord. It won't just be madmen from England that come after you, every unsavory person in the _entire magical world_ will be after it, if word ever leaked out."

Fleur whipped out her wand. "I, Fleur Delacour, swear by magic, on my life, that I will never voluntarily release any information about his family invisibility cloak. I will keep its secrets to the best of my ability. So mote it be." A flash of magic came from the tip of her wand as the oath was accepted by magic.

"No! Why would you do that!" Harry demanded to know.

"Why? It's obvious!" She rounded back at him, "For your protection _and_ for mine! I'm even debating asking you to obliviate this from my mind!" She was firm in her resolve on this. No security precaution could be enough.

"For mine and yours? You didn't have to do that Fleur." Harry had his hand on the back of his neck and it was running up and down the back of his neck and head.

"I did." She wouldn't be convinced otherwise. "That cloak is literally priceless. It's invaluable. No fortune could be worth it. You must keep it secret, keep it safe and let _nobody_ know about it. Anyone who knows you _must_ swear to secrecy. Who else knows?"

"Well, nobody knows it can walk through wards that I'm aware of." He told her and she let out a breath at that. "But there's quite a few people that probably know about the cloak, that it's a normal invisibility cloak anyways."

"Who?" Fleur demanded to know right away.

"Err, well, my friends Ron and Hermione. Hagrid knows of it too. Dumbledore for sure, my dad's friends Moony and Padfoot, Pettigrew too, a not-dead Death Eater. That's all I can think of off the top of my head?" He lifted his eyes up as high as they could go and then shut his eyes trying to concentrate and see if he'd forgotten anyone else. He had, "Oh, Fred and George and probably Snape too." He added sheepishly.

"Merde." Fleur swore again. "None of them know about the ward walking though?" She asked tentatively hopeful.

"Not that I know of." Harry responded confidently. "Well, maybe Dumbledore?"

Fleur sighed and raised her eyebrow in expectancy of an explanation.

"He gave it back to me when I was eleven, at Christmas. It's from him I know that it is a family heirloom. He would have had it at least as long as my parents were dead. He might have just had it but he's Dumbledore. He probably knows but I have no way of knowing without asking him."

Fleur nodded, agreeing with his line of thought.

Things got quite as Harry wondered what Fleur would recommend. She was deep in thought he could easily tell.

"You need to discreetly get a hold of a top quality invisibility cloak. It would be your decoy whie your heirloom is kept secret from everyone." She nodded firmly. "It's the best idea. You cannot contain the knowledge that you have _a_ cloak of invisibility. So, just make sure you have one and if anyone ever wants to see it you can show them a normal one."

"That should work… but, where do I get a cloak?" He doubted you could get one at Diagon Alley, at least from the shops he knew about. He almost snorted at the mental image of going into Madame Malkins and asking for one as he picked up his school robes.

Fleur frowned as she tried to figure out a plan, then she got an idea. "I'll ask Papa. We owe you thirteen years of birthday and Yule presents. An invisibility cloak so you can avoid being harrassed in public would make a great gift don't you think?" She was proud of the idea she'd come up with.

"And if he finds out that I already have an heirloom cloak?" He asked, thinking it an obvious flaw in her plan.

Fleur's confidence seemed to disagree with him as she answered that query. "Cloaks only last a couple decades and I'll explain yours is fading and needs to be replaced. I'll tell him I'll pull the same trick he did on Gabrielle with her Pygmy Puffs." She grinned.

"What trick?" Harry frowned wanting to understand why she thought it was so funny.

"Gabrielle doesn't understand that Pygmy Puffs have a rather short life span. When hers dies Papa tells her it is just sleeping and that day he buys her a new one that looks the same. When Maman distracts her he switches them out and because she doesn't understand she thinks she's had the same Pygmy Puff since she was trois." Fleur smiled evilly at him.

"So Papa will think you don't know your cloak is dying and my replacing it will give you a gift you didn't realize you received from us, one that is practical and helpful. You just need to act ignorant, shouldn't be anything new for you should it?" She batted her eyelashes at him and giggled at his offended expression.

Harry had to admit it was a decent idea. He still doubted Monsieur Delacour wouldn't see through it eventually but it was probably a decent enough idea. Plus, it wasn't his money that would be wasted. A second invisibility cloak might be downright useful. He was getting too big to share his cloak and it didn't work right if it wasn't just him under the cloak anyways. Not seeing any downside he agreed.

"Is that all for testing then?" Harry asked, hoping it was. He was getting hungry.

"No, we have one more set of tests to do." She grinned ferally at him and Harry had some healthy fear enter into his mind. "We need to test direct spellcasting." The malicious look in her eyes didn't bode well for him. She probably wanted pay back for him laughing at her when the ward caught her.

Harry prepared himself to get hit by spells, he hoped Fleur wasn't going to be too unkind. If she was he'd just start dodging and shielding.

"I would think that the wards do not affect you because they are trying to keep out or affect magicals. Muggle repelling wards are a part of every standard set so wards are normally used to keep out magicals. As you are undetectable by magic under your cloak they don't react to your presence."

"That makes sense, I guess. Wards hadn't been an area of study for him yet. He'd intended to add it to his list though. "Do you know much about wards? Aren't they a post NEWT topic?" He knew it was but he was being kind and acknowledging that if she had studied it she was quite advanced for her age.

"I've studied it some and, yes, it is a post NEWT field of magic." Some of that veela arrogance colored her tone as she responded.

"Impressive." It really was as she'd already demonstrated a basic knowledge of the magic and was capable of producing a basic ward. "Was there any particular reason for your study in that field?"

Most people didn't study it. They hired professionals and had a binding contract to not give away their ward scheme or any vulnerabilities they can think of to anyone not a party to the contract. It had worked for the majority of the populace for centuries.

"Oui, I had thought about trying to be a curse breaker. I'd started studying for the entrance examinations this past summer."

"You were up to studying wards before you were a seventh year?" She was actually even more impressive than he'd thought.

"Oui, you didn't think I was all just exotic beautiful looks did you?" She gave him a teasing twirl. "I told you, 'arry, you won't find a better match than me. You should just give up and be mine, you won't regret it." She said in sultry voice.

Hormones be damned! Harry couldn't help blushing and reacting to that. "How bout we get on with the next test?" Harry quickly changed subjects. He was tempted to bring up the idea Daphne had planted in his head but didn't think transitioning onto the topic of children would send a message he wanted to do, at this time at least.

"Okay, I expect the spells to still 'arm you when you are under the cloak. Stand ten feet away under the 'X' on the ground." She'd used her wand to paint an 'X' on the ground while she had spoken.

Harry dutifully did as he was told and went and stood where he was instructed and slipped on the cloak.

"A stinging jinx to start then." Fleur casted silently and hit Harry in the abdomen.

"Ouch." Harry said, throwing off the cloak and rubbing the spot he had been struck.

"So physical spells hit you." Fleur smirked and said a little too happy with hurting him, not that it actually hurt.

"Why'd you think it would work?" Harry had an idea, especially after what Fleur had reminded him of for wards but he'd like to hear her thoughts, she was intelligent.

"Isn't it obvious? Your cloak protects your soul from magical detection. The spell continues until it physically hits something. So, any spell I cast that affects a target physically won't be blocked by your cloak. Only magic that is based off of detecting the soul will fail to work." She bit her lip and was nervous to add something. She puckered her lips then opened and closed her mouth.

Harry kept silent and waited to see if she would say anything else.

"I'm hesitant to speak it because I fear you may one day try it." Fleur's confident demeanor had fallen away. She had one arm dangling down her left side and the other was holding her elbow. She was swaying slightly and had a nervous quiver in lower lip. "I- I think you could survive another killing curse if it hit you while you wore the cloak."

Harry sucked in a breath. That made some sense. "Because it's not physical?"

Fleur ducked her head in acknowledgement. "It's soul magic. There is never a physical mark because it removes the soul from the body. Their life on earth ends and their soul departs."

Harry frowned, he wasn't sure he wanted to bring it up with her but this was too good an opportunity to not ask. He didn't want to have another major avenue of research to be assisted by the Delacour family but he couldn't resist the opening, plus she'd given him an unasked for vow…

"Do you know much about soul magic?" Harry asked quietly, for some reason he didn't want to speak about anything.

Fleur's eyes shot up to his. They were sharp and totally focused, any lack of confidence or clarity was now missing. "Non. I only know the human soul is pure and to tamper with it is beyond foul. It is devilry, the blackest of magics. Never research it 'arrry. Not only is it illegal across the whole ICW it is wrong, as dark as dark gets." There was a sincerity and a vehement longing for him to heed her advice.

"Oh, I didn't know." Harry said trying to keep his response as innocent and natural as he could. Despite the warnings he knew he had to research soul magic. There was something more to the diary than just an enchantment. The more he thought about it the more he knew it.

The memory of Riddle was leeching the life out of Ginny. There was no wound, there was no transfer of magic or anything discernable. It was as if she was losing her essence, her soul, to the diary. A diary able to think, possess, and manipulate those around them. It was soul magic, Voldemort wouldn't care how black the art was. He was depraved, evil and anything that could help him achieve power he would have done his best to learn. If soul magic was 'wrong', like Fleur said, there was no doubt he had to learn more about it.

"'Arry, it's not something to mess with. If your tutor tries to teach you anything about it run. Don't even wait, just get up and leave. No matter the benefit it's not worth it. The truly Dark Arts are all like they. They promise power and prestige but they are treacherous. For every power they grant they take from you. It takes and takes until you aren't you. You're a twisted shell of a human and unredeemable."

She moved close to him and cupper his cheek with his right hand. "That's not you 'arry. You're a chevalier, a knight. Brave, noble, courageous and pure of heart, you are all those things and so much more. Stay so."

Harry was surprised by how earnest she was. Somehow she seemed to know he had no intention of staying away from Soul Magic. She was trying to warn him and ardently accede for him to not fall to the Dark Arts.

If someone walked in on them just then they may have thought she was about to kiss him, or him her. That wasn't the case at all. There was nothing sexual about the actions. It was deep, emotional and completely wholesome.

Fleur removed her hand from his cheek and walked back to her paper.

Harry looked after her blankly. He was collecting himself. Fleur was so different than he'd really ever thought before. She'd been so open and helpful. Her family had been straightforward and honest since he'd become acquainted. He still didn't know exactly how he felt about them but he'd felt comfortable there. Instead of having leverage over him, by helping with the cloak, she'd sworn herself to secrecy and come up with an idea on how to keep people from knowing about his special cloak.

He wasn't really sure about his own feelings. He liked the time he spent with Natalia but she hadn't put him at ease like Fleur had. She'd shown interest and spent time with him whenever she could. She teased but never pushed him or tried to force anything. He wasn't sure what this all meant…

"It is lunch time, 'arry. Did you want to accompany me to the Great Hall?" She asked him.

"Sure, I need to eat and don't' have other plans."

"One more thing, 'arry. Did you figure out your egg?"

"You mean our upcoming late February dip in the lake?" Harry wasn't completely sure that she knew what it was until he saw her reaction.

A grin tugged at her lips. "Are you not looking forward to seeing moi in a swimsuit? I thought you liked my derrière." She stated with faux innocence, a finger touching her chin, "It would look good in one non?" Her cheeks lifted as she smiled at Harry's slight blush and obvious quick though about what she'd said.

Harry shook his head. "You keep asking me trap questions. If I say no you follow up questioning if I'm a red-blooded man, or why ever not, and if I say yes… well, let's not go there..."

"Why not? Is it so hard to admit you like me?" Fleur asked coyly, taking a step toward him.

"No, it's really not." Harry told her bluntly. "But liking and dating are two different things."

"I know 'arry." She brushed a the few strands of hair that had fallen into her face. "Know I cannot wait forever; I'm of age and Papa has been turning down suitors for years. I've not yet dated... but, soon I must." Already heading off Harry's worry she continued before he did any more than open his mouth. "Papa would never force me to marry, but we all 'ave our lot in life. I'm a Delacour and continuing our line is something I must do." There wasn't a grimace or any tone of sadness. Harry thought it was acceptance and understanding with, perhaps, a dash of resignation.

"I get it." Harry shared a small smile with her. "I'll keep it in mind."

"I understand it seems so far away... To be truthful fourteen is a little young for me right now. By the time we are twenty and seventeen? It will not be so. I've chosen not lose you as a potential suitor over such a silly thing." She closed the distance between them and left a lingering kiss on his cheek, just off the side of his mouth.

"Are you coming for lunch, 'arry?" She asked as she sashayed out the door.

Harry stuffed his invisibility cloak into his bag and followed her.

They'd used a third floor classroom and didn't have too far to go to get back to the main level. They chatted amicably until Harry realized he really should ask Fleur about the pregnancy issue. He was going to have to make some plans on the romantic front and he needed reliable information to make it.

Harry told her he wished to ask about one more thing and directed them to the Antechamber off the Entrance Hall. Harry locked the door with a colloportus charm and quickly snapped off his privacy charms.

Fleur looked at him expectantly, an eyebrow raised. "What did you want to speak with me about that we hadn't covered?"

Harry had a moue expression on his face. "I was told there are difficulties between veela and wizards for bearing children. Instead of believing them at face value I thought I'd ask you."

Fleur scowled, "Natalia told you this?" She asked sharply.

"No, it wasn't her."

Her black look hadn't left yet but she answered. "There are. It is _very_ difficult to get with child, most wizards and veela coupling do not bother with birth control."

"Oh." Harry said not sure how he should follow up.

"My grand-mère did not expect to have ma mère. It happened and my mother is a true half-breed, half witch half veela. She and Papa have not used contraceptives and have a _healthy_ relationship." She blinked quickly and squeezed her eyes shut for a second, wishing it would keep torturous memories she'd seen to away, "But they have only had us two."

Harry was wide-eyed as he listened, trying to be empathetic, but he didn't fully understand what she was saying. He thought she was leading to something by her delivery. He bit his tongue to keep from asking any questions until she had made it clear she was done explaining.

This is not known to those without veela heritage and I trust it will not be blabbed about." She shot him a stern look even though she knew it wasn't necessary. Harry wasn't one to run his mouth and if she asked him for a favor she knew he'd agree unless she was totally unreasonable in her request.

"A full veela will not have more than one half-breed child. A half-veela will have two daughters at most, never any male offspring. A quarter-veela will have, at most, two daughters and a son. My son, if I have one, will not have enough veela magic to have any reproductive restrictions. My daughters, and theirs, will each be able to have one more child than the previous generation with no further gender restrictions beyond four children, their restriction being two females and two males."

If she wasn't so deadly resolute in her delivery he'd almost think she was joking. Adding to her words Daphne's families issues with having children it made it far more believable.

"How do full-veela reproduce then? Are there male veela?" Harry asked knowing full well no book he could source had even mentioned a hin at there being male veela.

Fleur laughed, "There are no male veela. To be a veela is to be a woman."

"And full-veela?" He prompted, he really wanted to know! There were lots of ridiculous ideas for how veela repopulate. They ranged from they lay eggs and heat them with their own fire until they hatch to they steal muggle males for sex orgies and because the muggle doesn't have magic the veela magic overrides their sperm to make only veela women with small characteristics that resemble the father.

"Sorry 'arry, you must be a veela to know or married to one." She shot him a cheeky look, "If you must know there is always that option."

Harry rolled his eyes, "I don't need to know _that_ badly."

"It would be a bad things to marry moi?" Her lower lip protruded in a sulky pout.

"No, I'm not playing into this! It's time for lunch." He quickly removed his privacy spells and removed the locking spell on the door.

He got outside the door and waited for her. He wasn't actually running away from her, he was just hungry and wanted to do a couple things after lunch.

"Are you going to sit with me 'arry?" Fleur asked audaciously.

"Did you want to sit with me at the Gryffindor table?" He asked and then added his reasoning,"I should really say hi to my quidditch teammates."

Fleur was walking level with Harry but she grabbed his forearm to stop him. Harry felt the spell she cast. It felt private yet void as well. He assumed it was a privacy spell but he asked her before she could say why she'd stopped him from entering into the Great Hall. Seriously, if these delays kept happening they'd _never_ get to eat!

"What was that spell, what are its functions?" Ha abruptly spoke while Fleur was opening her mouth.

Fleru's neck dipped back, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed, she was obviously annoyed at the interruption. "It's a privacy charm, it keeps our voices from carrying out past a three feet radius."

Perfect! That made sense why he felt a void then. Beyond the circles circumference there was a barrier that killed sound waves, like a void. He wouldn't have been able to pick that up but it was so important he kept tuning his magical sense every chance he got.

"What I wanted to say, 'arry, was that if you do decide not to date me there will be no 'ard feelings. I will be your friend and confidant whether we date or not. The Delacours are friends with the Potters; that will not change." Harry could tell she was adamant with the meaning of her words.

"Thanks Fleur, really, thanks."

"You don't need to thank a friend for being a friend. Besides, there is no one better than me, you will see that." She patted his cheek twice. She dispelled the charm and then asked "Are we not getting food wiz your friends?" She winked at him in mirth.

Head ducked his head and escorted her into the hall leading her to sit beside him right next to his teammates. Harry sat to the right of Fred, or George, and across from Alicia, she was between Angelina, to her left, from Harry's perspective, and Katie.

"Harrykins! So lovely to see you ol' chap!" The twin Harry believe to be Fred greeted him with enthusiasm.

"And with the enchanting Miss Delacour in tow again, always a pleasure my lady." George cheerily added his mischievous greeting to his brother's. "I'd bow but then my face would be in my food and we don't have table manners as atrocious as our youngest brother." Though the comment was tongue-in-cheek it was still true.

"Hey! You don't even greet your own girlfriend that nice!" Angelina jumped in with an upset remark. She threw a bun, and like the great chaser she was, it hit him square in the face.

"Girlfriend?" Harry questioned immediately. "Didn't Fred take you to the Yule Ball?"

"I did." The twin sitting right next to him told him simply.

"But as I'm obviously the better looking twin," he had to doge the under the table gut punch from his twin, "she chose to date me." He stated smugly, thought it was ruined by his arms working to keep his brother from hitting him.

"Or maybe it was because you didn't ask me to the ball with an 'Oi! Angelina! Do you want to come to the ball, with me?' in the middle of the common room.

"Hey! You accepted that!" Fred interjected in his own defense, his arms finally free from his brother.

"What else was she to do?" Alicia spoke up for her friend. "Reject her teammate when she didn't even have a date yet and we were waiting for the two of you to get off your sorry arses and ask us?"

"Besides neither of them would be dating you two louts if you'd kept that up." Katie added, patting Alicia's arm supportively. "I still say they should dump you two hooligans. They could share Harry at least he has some class and escorts his lady in by the arm." She'd continued with a wicked grin.

"'Arry is quite the gentleman, I might even be open to sharing 'im if the terms are right." She added a wink for extra effect at the two stunned chasers.

Harry had piled food while his teammates bantered back and forth. He'd paid attention enough to learn Alicia was dating Fred and Angelina was with George but the rest of the banter he'd ignored like the good natured chatter they had when they were all together. That was until Katie Fleur joined their teasing. Katie had commented that they should all share him to annoy Fred, George and Lee, Katie had a thing for the twins good friend, ut he'd not expected Fleur to join in.

"Oooooh I like her! You don't play Keeper and plan to transfer do you? Olly's gone and we'd love to have you." Alicia commented after she'd realized Fleur was joining in with their fun.

"Sadly non. I'm a fair flyer but nothing like 'arry in the First Task."

"Too bad. But you might be good enough for the spot. Nobody can fly like Harry, we all suspect he was born on a broom. His poor mom birthed him and his dad, a famous Gryffindor Chaser himself, swept him away and onto the back of a broom." This time it was Angelina that responded, the assumed next captain of the quidditch team.

"We all know the true story of the Boy-Who-Lived." Katie said in a hushed tone with her voice still loud enough the whole group could hear.

Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands. Two hands, Harry assumed one from each twin, gave him conciliatory back pats.

"You see, when You-Know-Who came after him Harry, they claim he reflected a killing curse and defeated the monster. For those of us who have seen the cottage home we know how blasted apart it became and we all know killing curses don't leave marks." Angelina started out seriously. She conspicuously elbowed Alica to continue.

"It was an obvious coverup. Harry's dad had him on a broom from the moment he was born, it's totally obvious. So the night He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came after them Harry didn't reflect a killing curse he flew away from it! She exclaimed the last part like it was the most evident fact ever. "He flew out the open window to escape the evil man."

Katie grinned now, she loved telling their little team joke of a story to new people. "The mad man was sooooo angry! The not even two year old had out smarted him and escaped! Such a bad man couldn't let that stand so he shot killing curse after killing curse after him. But our little seeker, even as wee and chubby cheeked he was back then was untouchable. As if they were green gludgers he dodged all the spells that would have ended his life. He dodged, ducked, dipped, dived and dodged like a pro."

Alicia snorted. "You said dodge twice. Olly's five D's were dodge, duck, dip, dive and dance."

"I never understood the dance one." Fred stated quickly.

"Ya, I still never understood how you dance on a broom." George built off of his twin's remark.

"And that's why neither of you halfwits will do more than smack balls around with your bats!" Angelina insulted them.

"You dance around the pitch by working in harmony with your partners, following formations and flying circles around your opponents. Did you two dunderheads never listen when Oliver explained it?" Katie asked incredulously. "You played with him a year longer and he _always_ explained it at the start of every year." She shook her head. "It's why we can all quote him word for word."

"Was that what he was yammering about?" George questioned while scratching the top of his head. "We always tuned him out after he said what they five D's were didn't we brother mine?"

"Too right we did. It's a simple concept innit? Hit the balls don't get hit by them."

Chuckles broke out between them, it was something the twins always joked about after Oliver had given them speeches and told them how to do their job.

When the light laughter settled down Fleur spoke up. "But how does the story end?" She looked at the three chasers excited to hear the end of their tale.

"No, no, no. We really don't need to hear it." Harry added in, he was glad they never let this story get out there, that they'd just kept it between them. He didn't need someone like Colin Creevey to overhear it and spread this ridiculousness. If the school believed he could be the Heir of Slytherin that set a monster after muggleborns when his mother and best friend were muggleborns he had no hope this story would not propagate and find its way into the Daily Prophet.

"You don't think she deserves to knwo the truth Harry? For shame!" Harry didn't dignify Katie's words with a response. He buried his head and focused on eating his food. They were going to tell Fleur no matter what he responded with.

"Where were we at?" Alicia asked Fleur.

"'Arry using the five D's to 'eroicially avoid killing curses."

"Right, right." Katie said realizing where she needed to continue from. "The young Potter wouldn't be touched by the curses, he'd dodged all the ones at close range and was getting further away." She stopped and looked at Alicia.

"You-Know-Who wouldn't be defeated so easily though. He blasted his way out of the house and shot off even more killing curses." Alicia added ominously and let Angelina pick it up from there, a well rehearsed series of parts for the three girls.

"By this time the little guy was almost out of eyesight on his broom. He was tearing away at top speed but he had a problem. The evil man could apparate! With a crack He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named apparated to catch up. This began a whole new game of cat and mouse. Poor Harry flying as if his life depended upon it and it really did!"

Angelina forked some food and leaned forward. She made eye contact with Katie. "Harry was too good, even so young. He outflew every spell and could not be touched. It was that night his winning streak truly began. He'd always practiced with his family but this was his first real opponent. If we know anything about our green eyed wizard it's that he's not lost a game on his broom." She paused and waited for Harry to pay attention to her. "Even cursed brooms and bludgers cannot stop him from snagging the snitch. You can't outfly him, he could outfly even a fire breathing dragon!" She descended into giggles at the annoyed look on Harry's face. That line was a new one, one that embellished things even further. He shook his head in good humor. What tripe outflying a dragon.

Angelina picked up the story as Alicia was too busy giggling with Katie over the new line. Harry purposefully didn't listen to all the terrible puns and lines they were trying to come up with. "If only the mad man had any idea of who he was challenging…" She said pitying the dark lord that tried to murder Harry on his broom in the fanciful tale.

"He was doomed from the second he engaged Harry when he was on his broom. The little tyke had a plan. He feinted, he misled his opponent. You-Know-Who saw exactly what Harry wanted him to see. He apparated to a spot where he knew he couldn't miss. Just as he was about to cast the spell Harry pulled up from his death defying dive. You-Know-Who screamed and wailed as behind Harry came one of his own killing curses! But it was too late to use any of the five D's! Harry tricked him and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named killed himself with his own curse!"

Fleur clapped her hands over her mouth. "How did I not see it before?! Incroyable, it's so obviously true!" Her body shaking to hold in the laughter was the only thing that gave away her wonderful acting. It only took a few seconds of false seriousness before the dam burst and all four girls were lost in their own dissolution of laughter and fits of giggles.

While they were incompasitated Harry was accosted by the twins.

"Any hints on the Second Task? We're setting the betting lines and don't have a clue what it is yet." Fred told him.

"Hard to set the odds when you're as clueless as anyone else." George said clearly hoping to entice Harry to tell them what the task might be.

Harry had no issue with telling them. "The Champions will swim in the Black Lake and rescue something, or someone, from the depths. They must do so within an hour time limit."

"Swimming in the Black Lake in winter? Are they mad?!"

Harry wasn't sure which twin had said that but he just shrugged and swallowed another bite of food down. "This is from the same people that considered stealing an egg from the nest of a mother dragon was suitable."

He looked up from his food and saw both twins nodded and quickly whispering back and forth to each other, too quiet for Harry to make out.

"You have a plan?" George asked far more serious than he normally ever would be, it reminded Harry of the time they gave him the Marauders Map.

"Three or four workable ideas." He said, he felt some warm fuzzies when they were so serious about his safety. If there were two guys he could ever count on it was them. They'd saved him when he had bars on his windows with a flying car. He'd never forget that. Giving them little bits of advice here and there was just a way to repay that, he, of course, humbly forgot the fact he'd saved their little sister, and if there was any debt owing it was them to him, not that Harry saw it that way.

"If you need a hand refining them we're around." Fred told him, the solemn look further solidified the genuine offer.

Harry smiled. It was nice when people had his back. There was a lot of intrigue and politics going on but these simple moments were worth everything he had to put up with to be in the magical world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than I normally like but double chapter! Who can complain about that?


	22. Gaining Loyalties

"The power of the Black family has always been rooted in their ownership of land. The bare bones of their economic plan was to own land, rake in gold by leasing it out and bank the money. When they have enough funds in the bank they purchase more property. As their portfolio of properties grows so does their cash flow." Cyrus Greengrass stopped his lecture when Harry's face showed he wasn't understanding something.

"Cash flow, sir?" Harry asked, his face marred with confusion.

Cyrus ran a hand over his face, it had been a long day of educating Harry on the Black holdings and status of the family. "Sorry Harry, I'll try and keep it simple but please understand I attended muggle university and completed mastery studies in finance since then. It's like teaching advanced quidditch tactics to a toddler. They understand flying and the main objective but all the nuances are beyond them. As they grow and learn they will grasp it, but, for now, the financial workings of the Black family are simply beyond your ability to comprehend in minutiae."

"I understand." Harry wasn't happy with it but he understood. You can't teach advanced material without the prerequisite background information. Really, his goal was to not have to handle any of this until he was older. The political, legal and financial aspects he wanted to be aware of and to put under control of others that were far more competent and perfectly loyal to him. Nevertheless, he paid attention as best as he could.

"Cash flow, in very simple terms, is the difference between incoming and outgoing flows of money. There are many ways and various methods that tell you different things about cash flow. In short, you want a positive cash flow. It means you have liquidity, cash or cash equivalents, to pay your bills and use your liquidity to your benefit. You want to have positive income all the time and to ensure there are no shortfalls, even when you have positive cashflow it can be a challenge"

"Why so sir?" Harry asked, he thought his questions were grating on the older man so it was fun to keep his face blank and ask as if he was really interested in knowing.

"An example will help to illustrate. Say you have 1000 galleons of income per month and 500 galleons of expenses. Overall you would have a monthly net benefit of 500 galleons.

"Okay." Harry said, understanding why having more money coming in on a monthly basis than was leaving was a good thing.

"Part of a cashflow though is timing. If you are paid the 1000 galleons on the last day of the month but you must pay the 500 galleons on the first day of the month that timing is very poor. You must use other funds to pay the 500 galleons for almost the entire month."

Harry nodded understanding there was far more to it than just a monthly number.

"As a general principle you want to pay your bills as slow as possible and get paid what you are owed as quickly as possible." The man educated him

That led Harry to think of a question though.

"You said the Blacks bought their land. Did that mean they took out a mortgage?" He recalled it was a common complaint from Uncle Vernon, the mortgage was too expensive.

"Ah, muggle raised." Cyrus sighed. "In the magical world there are truly only terrible options for taking debt out. You can borrow from another family or from the goblins. You'd never want to be majorly in debt to another wizarding family and the goblins… only the truly desperate would consider it. So, no, the Black family always purchased with their stockpiled gold."

Harry was about to ask for details of why you'd never want to be in a position to take on debt in the wizarding world but an interruption halted their conversation. Through the floo came Horace Slughorn, portly belly, rosy cheek and all.

"Harry my boy!" He beamed and then caught sight of the other occupant. "And Cyrus, how are you, it's been a little while, how are your girls, Daphne and Astoria? I heard they were both in my former house and your eldest is as bright as a Ravenclaw and as cunning as any of the three Black sisters." He moved forward and shook hands with Harry then with Cyrus.

"I'm well and so are my girls." Harry thought he looked a little tense, compared to their discussion on finance anyways, "You're rather… informed… about my daughters." The drawl he'd used when lecturing wasn't the same as this. He still spoke in a drawl but there was a hidden edge within it.

"Quite so! I may not be the Head of Slytherin anymore but I like to keep up to date on things." Harry watched the two men interact and was surprised at how on edge and defensive the Greengrass patriarch was. His interaction made it clear he thought Slughorn was dangerous. Harry wondered if there was there an unspoken threat there or a poor history between them.

"Well Harry, you asked me to be here today, what can I do for you?" The man sounded immensely pleased at his inclusion here today.

"Well, sir, I-" Harry was cut off before he could say anymore.

"Horace, Harry, Horace, we've been over this." He cut in firm though oddly gentle at the same time. It wasn't reproachful in the way Dumbledore expressed disapproval, the grandfatherly disappointment method, it was a cheerful rapprochement, something Harry was unfamiliar with.

"Horace then." Harry said.

Horace slapped him on the back. "Just so!" He beamed once again at the younger man. "And you were saying?" He led Harry back to the topic at hand.

"Yes, Horace, I had asked for you to be here today for two reasons but before we get down to business shall we retire to the study?" Harry stood up. They had been in the parlor for the entire time they were at this property.

Receiving nods from both men Harry led them into the former study of Arcturus Black. The man had used this top floor corner unit apartment as a place to conduct business. It was renovated to have a parlor entry for the floo, a waiting area of place to conduct business that was not so formal, a powder room for guests, a small library, a kitchen and eating area and the large office. Beyond the large office was the washroom and a small bedroom in case he'd felt the need to retire here. There were no doors to gain entry into the rest of the building and the property was heavily warded.

Harry had learned of it from the man's portrait and he still kept one of his frames here. He'd purchased and setup the property for himself. A place where he could get away from family and get work done. It was Harry's intention to use it to conduct business affairs but not to be a home base.

He walked into the room and sat in the ornate chair behind the large desk. Two comfortable chairs were pulled out, by Harry's spell, as an invitation for them both to sit.

"Before we begin, please be aware this room is heavily warded. They are the same Arcturus used when he

"Kreacher" Harry called out.

The batty old elf popped in and gave a low bow. "Half-blood Regent calls? Kreacher will serve, as he must." Harry grinned, of the two House Elves he'd had more regular contact with neither were what he'd consider as sane. Kreacher despised Sirius and had a dislike for Harry, strictly on his blood status. There was respect for his grandmother and to listen to him as the Regent for the family. He found ways to disrespect Harry that Harry found tolerable and humorous.

"We'll take tea, just the way Arcturus liked it, his specialty tea." Harry commanded firmly.

Kreacher's eyes bulged and he gained a feral grin. "At once." He snapped his fingers and disappeared.

"I hope tea was okay for you both." Harry said, turning his attention back to the two men he wanted to get into the room with him.

"It's fine." Cyrus responded first neutrally. He'd been guarded the whole time they'd spent together. It was an odd dynamic with him being of an age to be Harry's parent while in a subservient position to a fourteen year old.

"Tea is fine, Arcturus had exquisite tastes." Slughorn told him jovially. "The last time I had tea with the man was when his grandchildren were students of mine. He'd brought in a tea for the orient and refused to tell me his supplier. But I talked to Marty, a former student of mine that imports from those kinds of regions, and he thought it was from the Fujian Province in China, a Oolong Tea that is rather famous. It was excellent and quite hard to come by, though Marty did source me some, right from Da Hong Pao."

"You've always been well connected, Horace." There was a sprinkling of friction to his comment but nobody commented on it.

Harry ignored the unnecessary comment from the man and continued with his current plan. "I asked you both to be here as Horace has offered to teach me potions, politics and wizarding society. Cyrus is the current Steward of House Black, though his abilities to perform his duties have been removed by Orion Black. He'd be handling the legal and financial aspects and working in coordination with yourself, Horace, if I accept that is." He gave a hard look to both men and awaited comment.

"Before we go any further I need a vow from both of you anything spoken of today will be kept completely silent and not divulged in any way, muggle or magical."

"A vow on?" Cyrus asked, clearly not happy with the request.

"Your life or magic, it doesn't matter to me which, both are sufficient." Harry stated in a calm manner.

"Our life or magic?! Those are very harsh terms, Harry." Slughorn said, his usual exuberance missing, he was slightly reproachful.

Harry stared at both of them, making sure he met both of their eyes, "If you are not interested you are free to leave. My affairs are exactly that, mine. I'm a private person and am taking precautions."

"We are swearing on our life or magic for your privacy?" Cyrus asked in disbelief. "My contract as Steward is more than sufficient to protect your secrets."

"I'm the Regent Black but if I were to ever recuse myself from the role you could be given an allowance to speak about things the contract protects. I'm not as naive as I once was and this is non-negotiable. Leave or swear the vow." The clear terms were laid out in a cold tone.

Slughorn had kept silent and had been content with watching and listening since the original request. He decided to ask a question now. "Why do you feel this is necessary? I'd prefer to hear your thoughts before deciding one way or the other." His voice was more detached than normal and there was a layer of warmth missing from his previous interactions.

With His had hands folded together, on the desk in front of him and he was seated towards the front of his chair with his back straight, he collected his thoughts before answering. "There are details neither of you are aware of regarding my life. I have to be sure the information is not known… I've had friends betray me, I've good reasons to question those I thought were trustworthy, and my parents were betrayed by someone they thought would die before doing so. I'm not in a position where I'm willing to trust anyone absolutely. The vow will protect me and I don't care that it is more cautious than I probably need. Swear it or don't, those are the options."

Slughorn listened carefully and nodded along to his points. "Sensible. I don't believe it necessary but if you think it is I will comply." He pulled out his wand and swore the vow of secrecy.

Cyrus begrudgingly did the same, he'd been boxed into a corner when the other main was willing, they'd have had to have been united for them to have tried to see if Harry was bluffing or not.

Harry smiled. "Kreacher" he called out and the elf came back with the previously ordered tea. He placed a glass in front of each of them.

Harry picked up his glass, raised it to the two men, and drank from it. For tea it was alright. He didn't have a refined palate for tea. He could tell you only the most basic of things. To him it was an alright tea and no more than that.

Slughorn opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He looked in alarm at Harry. Cyrus had watched that and spoke to Harry in an emotionless tone.

"You potioned us?" He questioned, his voice was one thing but the tightness of his body and openly hateful look was quite the opposite.

"Kreacher if you would." Harry said ignoring the angry Cyrus and outraged Slughorn. He was thankful that Arcturus' painting had some advice to impart. It was well known he was an astute politician in his day and unscrupulous in ensuring his family was better off. It was only after his health had declined that Orion, his son, was given the opportunity to lead the family and under his leadership they made the ill choice of bowing to the Dark Lord.

It was fascinating to hear a different perspective on the Dark Lord's rise. It had started with more politics and raising of support. It was once they were already in too deep that Orion realised his error. His own family had been a major player in removing the last Dark Lord and he'd led his family right into the next one's clutches.

Harry broke from his musing, he was thankful the intensive warding would keep him from harm while the wards were up. His two guests could not take hostile action against him, within the room, without being incapacitated, they both knew it too.

Kreacher did as he was commanded, he floated the wands of both men to his awaiting hand. He then presented them to Harry with a bow.

Slughorn's eyes had bulged and he was frantically panicking while working through his pockets. He looked relieved and pulled his right hand out and Harry, who had not sat idly by, petrified him before he could ingest the contents of the tiny potion vial.

Harry summoned the vial and placed it on the desk in front of him, out of easy reach of the man. He had his wand levelled at the two men still. "I've dosed you with the base veritaserum. It will not make you divulge anything and you will not be asked intrusive questions, nothing not intrusive to our working relationship anyway."

"This is outrageous." The dichotomy of the enforced neutral tone and the absolute fury of being dosed, illegally, as it is against their will, had Cyrus spitting in anger but his verbal delivery didn't match. In any other circumstances the disparity would have been comical.

"Kreacher." Harry said again, and the elf floated two vials in front of the men, just out of reach. Cyrus had reached for it, to inspect its contents, but Harry petrified him first.

"Let me make this clear. In front of you is a vial that will remove the effects of the potion. If you wish to take it you may do so and leave. Once you are in the parlor Kreacher will return your wand as you will not be able to re-enter the office through the wards." He paused here and saw signs of relief in their eyes, neither could move or change their posture as of yet.

"If either of you do that you working relationship with me is over. I am sorry that I had to do this and under different circumstances I would not have. You still are able to retain the right to answer or not answer questions. If your answers are not satisfactory, I will not be working with either of you, now or in the future. Note that your vow of silence will prevent you from ever divulging this incident." He showed no remorse for what he had done. This was strictly necessary in Harry's mind.

"I will unpetrify you one at a time and we can discuss things civilly or you can leave." It was hard to tell how they would react when they were unable to move.

Harry unpetrified Cyrus Greengrass first.

"This is outrageous!" He stated the same phrase again, though the delivery was no different. "I will not stand for this and you have my resignation." He stood up and took two steps to leave when Harry's voice caught his attention, stopping his movement.

"You don't want to research how to end the curse?" Harry asked, trying and failing to keep his voice light and questioning.

Cyrus didn't move his legs and he craned his neck, and shoulders, around to look at Harry. His eyes were dark and it may not be possible for him to be any more livid. "What did you say?"

"Beyond the Black Library I may have an ever greater resource for ritual based magic. Wasn't the point of your Stewardship and the marriage contract to get the knowledge of how to end the bloodline curse on your family?" Harry smirked inwardly. He'd known his actions wouldn't be taken well and had prepared for this.

"You are blackmailing me to gain my cooperation? You condemn my girls and their children when you are able to help? You are that callous?" If he was exclaiming any of his words Harry would not know. The veritaserum was keeping it all level.

"I am not blackmailing you at all." Harry told him, doing his best to keep his game face together. "_You _are deciding on whether to give up your position not me."

Cyrus was glaring at the young man, thinking, debating, unsure of his actions.

"Semantics. I say blackmail you say I'm free to leave." He sat down in the chair, looking no more happy than before.

Harry turned his wand onto Slughorn now and unpetrified him.

"I'd thought you were a mix of your parents, Harry my boy. Lily's eyes and intelligence with the temperament and morals of James. I was wrong. I see far more of Lily in you, a warm exterior and a ruthless intelligence that you wield when necessary." He nodded his head and retook his seat as well. "What is your leverage on me, you had Cyrus' weak point pegged, have you prepared the same for me?"

Harry gave him a grim smile. "I didn't need any. You've been setting up arrangements for a gathering, you've been coming back out to society and dropping my name. Would you cancel that all now and allow people to question whether we even had a relationship at all? All the public knows is that we sat together at the Yule Ball and didn't speak too much then."

"Ah, hurting my credibility, social standing and political position. I taught few with more of Slytherin's traits than you." He looked at Cyrus and then turned his attention back to Harry. "I'll not bow out yet but may do so."

Harry nodded in agreeance. He ran his hand over his face and let his wand slip back into his wand holster. "Would either of you wish to go first?"

"I will, however, I request Cyrus is unable to hear what we speak of." Slughorn spoke up.

"I'll request the same." Cyrus stated, wanting the same privacy. Just because neither could divulge any information didn't mean they couldn't act based on it.

Harry withdrew his wand and floated Cyrus' chair, with him in it, to the corner of the room. He placed a privacy charm and prepared himself for this.

"Respond to the question, and all following questions, unless instructed otherwise, with either 'yes' or 'no'. Do you have malicious intent for your plans for me?"

"No."

"Do you intend for anything negative to happen to me?"

"No."

"Did you tell me the whole truth about your relationship with my mother?"

"Yes."

"Did you act in good faith towards my mother, Lily Potter nee Evans?"

"Yes."

"Do you intend to work to my sole benefit?"

Slughorn opened his mouth and couldn't answer 'no'. He tries to say 'yes' and it failed too.

"Do you intend to work to our mutual benefit?" Harry clarified the question further. The previous one was too narrow to get an answer.

"Yes." Slughorn had a look of relief as he was able to answer in a way that was not horrible now.

"Would you act in your own self interest to the detriment of mine if it was beneficial to you?"

"No." Harry was surprised he was able to answer. Perhaps his question wasn't specific enough.

"Would you act in your own self interest, to the detriment of my interests, if it was _greatly_ beneficial to you?"

Horace failed to answer in the negative. He actually looked ashamed at that but not wholly so.

"Are you offering to assist me primarily because of my fame?"

"No." Again, surprising. It wasn't unforgivable for the man to work for his benefit of Harry's. He just needed to know what to watch out for and get these kinds of details before deciding upon his role.

"Please explain why you are offering to assist me." Harry was curious here, he had some of his own ideas but he wanted to see what the potion allow him to say.

Slughorn appraised him. "Your mother was an all time favorite of mine. In some ways she was like a daughter to me. She was so bright and one of my greatest pupils. The loss of her almost broke me. I wish to help you for her sake and I will admit I know I will benefit from being an advisor of yours as well."

Harry had known the man was slippery and could do as he'd described to Harry when explaining this potion. Harry had already worked out a method for dealing with this.

"Did you withhold any information in your last answer? Respond with a 'yes' or 'no'."

Horace's eyes widened in horror. He shook his head, he didn't want to answer. They both knew Harry had understood the limitation of his question and had caught Slughorn exploiting it. The man's face reddened.

"Look, Horace, I don't expect you to be perfectly loyal and to have not made mistakes at this point. I want honesty and I want to know if you are keeping information from me that may come back to bite me in the arse later. That's my purpose today." Harry was passionate about this. He thought Slughorn could be a very strong ally. Especially when he didn't think he and Dumbledore were close friends. Long time colleagues but there lack of interaction at the Yule Ball had been conspicuous.

Slughorn had a far away look, his eyes had drifted off to staring in the corner.

Harry let the man stew. He wasn't sure if this was the time to press or not. Harry closed his eyes and debated whether to press or not. He decided to and opened his eyes. "Does this have to do with Tom Riddle?"

Slughorn whipped his head around and focused on Harry, his posture defeated.

"I don't care what happened in the past, Horace. I want to avenge my mother and end that monster. If you can help me it will go a long way to absolving your past mistake."

"I'm not sure I can tell you Harry." If the potion wasn't effective still Harry would have expected he would have been barely whispering that comment. He looked like a defeated man, aged 10 years in 10 seconds.

"As long as you not withholding information that could be critical to the effort to defeat him I can live with past mistakes. You can't change your past; you can make up for it in the future. I've asked around and I think you could be an amazing person to have in my corner. But, I can only have people I trust and who are fully loyal and committed there with me."

Harry really did hope he could get this man to fully side with him. Even with him holding all the cards here the man was sly and not revealing anything damaging. He'd known Harry wouldn't be torturing or doing anything terribly shameful to him and had just gone along with things, even putting Cyrus into a worse spot, aiding Harry.

He was well connected and more importantly he'd advised his mother. From everything he'd heard his mother was amazing. She did something that defeated the Dark Lord. She sacrificed herself in such a way that it protected her son, it even continued to do so to this day.

James, Harry's father, hadn't even used his wand. He hadn't been prepared for an attack. He'd picked the friend who betrayed him and his two other best friends were not reliable either, though they were not betrayers. Remus hadn't bothered with him and Sirius was unreliable. Harry still liked and appreciated the relationship he had with them but he was not fooling himself. He'd spent a lot of time thinking things over and had come to the conclusion that his father had made colossal mistakes. Harry wasn't sure he could afford them.

His life had mirrored his father's, to some degree. Both sorted into Gryffindor, both made close friends first year, he had good grades but neither of them were academic standouts early preferring to goof off and play quidditch than study, and most importantly, his good friends were not as loyal to him as he was to them. He'd have never turned his back on Ron if his name had come out of the cup. He'd have never questioned Hermione if she'd said she didn't do it as adamantly as Harry had. If there were already cracks in the foundation of their friendship he didn't feel he could fully depend on them.

He'd felt his first few years he was much more like his father, a quidditch star that enjoyed fun and didn't take his studies all that serious, unless he needed to. It wasn't that he didn't love his father, he did, as well as he could without knowing him. The man had loved him and laid down his life for him. Harry just didn't know him, barely remembered him.

What he had learned about his parents put him in the mind that Lily was the one, between the two of them, that he should try and emulate.

She came into a foreign world set against her, he understood the predjudice Hermione, and other muggleborns, faced. She was a top student, a prefect, and Head Girl. She was hailed as a Charms and Potions prodigy. She was pragmatic enough to look out for her own future and that of her children. Harry thought her agreement to marry into the Potter family was more likely for her children and family's benefit than her own. She could have just left. Instead she'd made a decision that tied her to a family that was well respected and would provide for her and her children. Give them all the advantages that a long magical lineage could do for a child.

It was his mother's agreement for tutelage with the man that led him to believe he should accept it. Remus and Sirius' hesitance had no real effect on his plan. He heard their words and concluded they had no real idea what had truly gone on. They loved his father, and him by extension. He'd never fully trust Remus, for never being there for him without a valid reason for his absence. Sirius wasn't even trusted to act on the Black family's behalf. Arcturus had left the leadership of the family to his sister's grandson, one he never even got to know, before his own grandson, one he'd seen grow up and fight in a war. Harry had resolved he could love them and treat them like uncles and it was okay if he wasn't fully open with them, if he didn't have to take all their advice and he could keep secrets from them.

"Did I ever tell you why I helped your mother so much?" Horace asked, bringing Harry back to the man his mother had trusted.

"No I don't think you did."

The man had a dour smile on his face. "She was my redemption." His eyes burned with intense emotion. She was supposed to be what I thought my previous favorite should have been. She was so bright, a guiding light to our dark world. She would have changed the magical world. Her drive, her intelligence and dogged determination would of let her do no less." He dropped his head into his hands sadly.

When he lifted his head there were actual tears dropping down his cheeks. "I pushed her to the Potters. A family with a long history of being the harbingers of change. Beloved Charlus for galvanizing English citizens to forsake their neutrality and help against Grindelwald. He was just another Potter doing wondrous things for our world. Acting on his morals when no-one else would. And he's not the only Potter, your family is famous for them."

He swallowed thickly and wiped the tear stains from his cheeks. "With the Potter name and centuries of tradition behind her she would have been able to enact the changes she was passionate about. All my politicking, all my scheming, all the favors I called in, they were all ruined. Ruined by the man I'd helped more than any other as a student. The one I greedily thought would be the next Albus Dumbledore, a future Minister of Magic, a young man who had the world laid out in front of him and decided it wasn't enough… The very man who murdered the young woman I'd hoped would redeem me."

He brought his fist to his mouth and bit on it, trying and failing to bite back a sob. He leaned forward in his chair and tears were escaping his eyes again, rolling down his face and dropping to the floor.

"I was utterly fooled by Tom. He was so charismatic and frighteningly intelligent. I gave him unrestricted access to the Restricted Section, I answered all his questions on magic a student should not even be aware of, he was so fascinated by the frowned upon magics… I introduced him to the families that later became his inner-circle supporters, the financial and political backers for his rise as a Dark Lord. And Lily, the red-haired muggleborn, the one at least as intelligent as Tom, the one with a heart of kindness, a pure soul, she was my hope. I had it all by then, money, power, and connections galore. I had it all but a clear conscience. She would have been the one to fix that, the one to mend our world and push us into a better place. I really believe she would have... she should have been as revered as Rowena Ravenclaw."

The potion had worn off, his voice regained emotion and Harry wasn't fully certain of when it had happened. It had just fully happened but not the precise moment. Unless Slughorn was an impeccable actor, with and without veritaserum, he couldn't have faked the sincerity.

"So what am I to you then? Your third and final chance? The man who can avenge my mother and end the young man who became an abomination?" Harry asked, keeping his voice soft.

"Yes." He croaked out.

Harry was pleased, incredibly so. He'd wanted to find out the true motivations of the man and now he had. He'd found his weakness and exploited it. It had hurt his conscience to be deceitful, to lure the two men into a trap and try to play them. The only reason it had a chance to work was because who would ever believe or suspect it of the fourteen year old naive boy-who-lived. They'd underestimated him and hadn't even bothered to ensure they would be entering into good faith discussions and negotiations today.

"Tom isn't gone and I think you know that." Harry watched as his words had the same effect as if he'd just lashed a whip with the loud crack forcing those in close proximity to pay attention to it.

"He's a spirit I'd imagine. Weak, frail and a half step away from death." Horace whispered out.

"I saw him in that state. He possessed Quirrell in my first year and he tried to kill me, twice. The first time by jinxing my broom during my first quidditch match and the second time my mother's protection killed him." Harry watched carefully as his words washed over him. The veritaserum wasn't in effect anymore and he had to stay cognizant of that.

"In my second year Riddle's diary possessed a student and unleashed a basilisk on unsuspecting victims. It was a bloody miracle nobody died. I spoke with him then; he monologued and told me of his true origins before he set Slytherin's basilisk on me." Harry rolled up his sleeve so the bite mark on his arm was showing.

"This is where it's tooth got me while I was driving a sword through the top of its mouth, into its brain."

"You shouldn't be alive." Slughorn said in horror.

"Fawkes saved me. He cried into the wound, neutralizing the venom."

Horace narrowed his eyes and tapped his chin in thought. "I see…"

Harry ignored the comment, "Then I stopped the diary from leeching Ginny's life away from her and bringing the sixteen year old Riddle back to life. I drove a fang into it."

If an albino person and another albino person married and somehow a child from their union was born with a doubled the effect due to the lack of pigmentation in their skin it would be an apt comparison for how pale the man became. The only other explanation was that his heart had actually stopped and all the red-blood cells had retreated back to the core of his body leaving his blood vessels an empty.

"You know what the magic was." Harry said. It was a statement of fact. He knew Dumbledore had kept the diary and the gleam in his eye when he'd heard of what it had done was not something Harry would ever forget.

Slughorn did not answer, he might not have been able to.

"What is it?" His voice wasn't elevated and yet it was clearly ladened with a determined expectation.

Horace shook his head, his eyes were unfocused and unseeing.

"Dumbledore knew what it was and wouldn't tell me. How am I to fight an enemy that will not stop pursuing me if I don't know what weapons he possesses?" His voice was cutting and meant to push the man.

"I swore I'd never speak of it. I can't." His voice was filled with fear.

"It's soul magic isn't it?" The idea had really cemented in his head when he tested his cloak with Fleur. If you detect humans by sensing their soul then it was clear there is magic that can interact with one's soul. The diary-Tom had been leaching the life from Ginny. Life, as in, soul. You detect life by detecting the soul. It might have been too coincidental, or even just plain wrong, but his gut told him he was right. Slughorn's reaction gave it away as well.

"What do you know of it?!" Horace came back to life, his cheeks going rosy even as he had perspiration glistening on his face.

"Nothing, it's a theory of mine." Harry stated quickly.

"Nothing? You shouldn't know of soul magic. It shouldn't be in your vocabulary. I don't buy it." The man had become intense, hard even.

"Normally a student my agent wouldn't know of it. I was doing some research on how to detect life and learned how to detect human presence. I asked a friend if there was soul magic and she told me it was the darkest of arts. To never _ever_ study it. Given the warning, and my experience with the diary, I assume Tom would have delved into it, he is, afterall, a Dark Lord." Harry kept calm, he knew the man could do no more than shout. He was without a wand and a half second away from being subdued by Harry's wand if he made any sort of threatening movements.

Slughorn pierced him with an icy look. He relented and sighed. "I'd need to see the memory but I assume it was a horcrux."

"A horcrux?"

"A horcrux is an object in which a person has concealed a part of their soul." His forehead was heavily creased and his eyes wide as he explained what it was. Dread gripped him.

"Voldemort created a horcrux. It's why he survived his rebounded curse." Realization dawned on Harry. He understood how it was possible for him to still be around when the whole wizarding world thought him gone.

"How do you even split your soul?"

"Unrepentent murder." Horace said, his voice coming out barely above a whisper. "Killing rips the soul apart, it's a violation against nature."

Harry nodded, he didn't need to fathom the depths Riddle had sunk to. To murder someone and split your own soul. The knowledge of the act alone was enough to send shivers down his body. It was grotesque, unnatural, and even the thought of it left an impression of wrongness that you could never ignore.

A horcrux. While it was around he couldn't kill Voldemort for good. He'd have to find it and destroy it. What kind of item could it be? Was the diary one? It hadn't been a normal book. Did the soul protect it physically?

"How do you destroy a horcrux?" Harry hoped changing the nature of the discussion of them would shock the man out of his catatonic state. It was like he was in the presence of a dementor, reliving his worst memory over and over again.

"Basilisk venom, fiendfyre and possibly a killing curse." He frowned at that last one, that was more hypothetical than actual theory backed up with tested results.

"Wait, I don't get something." Harry was confused, "If it requires murder then shouldn't there be hundreds of wizards with horcruxes? Voldemort wouldn't be the first one to commit unrepentant murder."

Horace might have tried to award points to him if he was still a student for such an insight. "Magic is requires more than just the act to split the soul. The murder is the final piece of a ritual designed to split the soul and capture it in an item. You are correct that it is far more intricate than just a murder." The glassy eyed former potions professor was beyond the point where horror could affect him. It reminded Harry of the man almost being drunk, but instead of alcohol it was from horror.

"A ritual?" Wasn't that interesting. Harry knew Voldemort must have learned from the memoirs and books left within the Chamber of Secrets. He would have started the ritual sets. It would have been one of the special rituals, there were seven slots for them.

Slytherin had been very particular about warning those that read his work to stick to the seven sets of seven. To go beyond it and get to a place of magical balance was folly. Three sets of seven sets of seven rituals was ludicrous. Slytherin claimed seven by seven took extensive knowledge and intensive research to put together.

Was the Chamber controlled by a horcrux?

Harry thought about that. No, it couldn't be. He'd checked for souls within the chamber. All the times he'd cast the spell it had come up negative.

"If the diary was one and I destroyed it with basilisk venom…. Would that mean he had more than one or would his disembodied spirit be all that is left of him?" Harry was really curious now, the thought of creating more than one… That wasn't a good thing. They could be anything. Though, Lucius Malfoy had had possession of it. Voldemort may have had his followers hide them...

"Seven." Horace choked out, the word was barely audible. He cleared his throat, "He asked if was possible to make seven. If he had just the one he'd have passed on as no part of his soul would linger on earth."

Seven.

Merde. Fuck. Shit. This was terrible. A sucker punch to his gut. A real kick in the nuts.

How did he fit it in within the forty-nine rituals? Were all of his power rituals horcruxes? The seven sets were focused on his mind, magical abilities, physical rejuvenation, magical rejuvenation, physical strength, magical strength, and seven power rituals. Horcruxes didn't fit any of the sets but the power set.

Unless he went beyond the seven sets of seven? Would he have been crazy enough to not listen to the advice of Salazar Slytherin? Would he have attempted three sets of seven sets of seven? Would his ego be that great? It was possible. Hopefully that would become more clear.

Harry realized just how important this knowledge was.

"You've got to protect yourself. You've got to take an unbreakable vow to _never_ reveal that secret. His followers obviously don't know or they'd have been left instructions of how to revive him." Harry was deadly serious. He remember just how important Fleur had felt keeping knowledge of his cloak hidden was. This was that on steroids.

"I was going to demand one from Cyrus and ask you to bind him. His oaths to the Black family aren't to me. I'd give him the consideration that I'd assist them with access to all the resources I have to remove their bloodline curse. What do you think?"

Harry ran his hands up his face, through his hair and down the back of his neck holding them there and squeezing. This was taking a toll on him. All this stress.

"It is sensible. What would it entail? What do you have in mind, Harry, my boy?"

Harry gave a weak smile to him, one that didn't reach his eyes. It was nice to see Slughorn was regaining his composure. "Loyalty and keep you from betraying me or being coerced to."

"Loyalty?" He frowned at that.

"Yes. Then I could trust you wholly. I'd not have the nagging suspicion that you could betray me, intentionally or otherwise."

Slughorn did not seemed pleased by the idea so Harry tried to reason with him further. "Look, you said mom was your chance at redemption. It's not too late. I can be that for you. I've already gained potential allies, I have control of the Black and Potter families and that's not even getting into my own fame. We can destroy the Dark Lord, we can defeat him. But I won't risk betrayal. Taking every precaution _is _necessary."

Horace was still unconvinced. "I won't swear a vow of loyalty without assurances of whom I'm swearing too. I blindly supported Tom and won't risk that again."

Was that a statement of fact or was he actually worried that Harry might follow Tom's path? Harry scowled and was about to riposte the comment when Slughorn qualified his statement.

"You want an oath of loyalty from me when I freely give it. I don't think you will be like Tom but, like you and loyalty, I won't risk it either."

Equitable, Slughorn was asking for an equitable exchange.

Harry hummed then nodded.

"What about the wording: I Horace Slughorn swear I will act in good faith as an advisor to Harry James Potter. I further swear I will not in any way divulge information that could cause grievous harm to Harry James Potter. That should be sufficient."

Harry had thought up slightly different terms but that seemed to cover it. "What do you want me to swear?" Harry had spent time working on what wording he might want and hadn't expected something like this.

"I'd like you to swear you will not purposefully work against the betterment of the wizarding world and the destruction of Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Harry's lips thinned. "Betterment of the wizarding world? That is so broad wouldn't that make it too easy to run afoul of?"

Slughorn shook his head. "No, broad is better here, I'd think. The term is so vague you'd have to do something terrible to break it. It's preventing action not compelling you to act. The vow is enforced by magic; It follows your intent. Unless you purposefully intend to harm the wizarding world you are fine."

"So, don't be evil and I'm okay?"

A slow nod confirmed it. "We'll need a binder." Harry said shifting his eyes to the corner where Cyrus Greengrass still sat.

"What is your intention with him?" Horace asked. "The serum will have run its course already."

That was true and he douse the man with a second dosage it didn't sound like Slughorn was in favor of that.

"Make him swear the same oath to you. While he is the Steward of House Black it doesn't hurt to be cautious here. The magical contract he's signed will cover everything else, it just has leeway between what is best for the House and yourself. Any form of coercion used against him will deprive him of all knowledge of the family and strip him of his powers, there's nothing to worry about on that end, if anything it gives you double coverage."

Harry nodded, glad to have the man no his side.

"You should also request an update of all standing orders for those subservient to House Black, the list will most likely be the House Elf and Steward. I don't believe House Black has any other formal positions at this time, or in the recent past."

"Is that a standard thing to do when taking over leadership of a family, Horace?" Harry asked, these were the kinds of insights he should have learned growing up.

"It is not standard, per se, but it is recommended. The standing orders from previous masters are to be followed unless they are revoked."

"Okay."

Harry stood up and dispelled the privacy charms.

Cyrus stood up and moved to return to sit in front of the desk. Harry levitated the chair in place and Cyrus sat down.

"Some agreement has been reached between you?" He half asked and half stated.

"Yes. We'll need you to act as the binder for a mutual unbreakable vow."

The man's eyebrows raised and his eyes darted between them, though he said nothing. "I'll need my wand." He said.

Harry passed it back to him and walked around the desk so he was standing behind the two chairs the men had sat in, before they had stood up.

Harry clasped Horace's hands and repeated the vows with Cyrus binding them in an unbreakable vow. What a funny name, unbreakable vow. Sure, it couldn't be broken but it could be dissolved, if both parties wished and took the necessary steps. It was a contract back by pain of death, no more no less. Contracts can be frustrated and terminated.

Perhaps it should have been a feeling of constriction, that his ability to act freely had been restricted by the unbreakable vow he'd sworn. Instead he felt like he'd just had a huge weight drop off his shoulders.

Having Slughorn in his corner was monumental. Learning of Voldemort's horcruxes… that was just priceless. Without that knowledge he would have been doomed to failure. It still felt like a long shot, that they'd find and destroy up to six more… Harry wasn't sure if Tom was interested in having seven soul pieces extracted from his soul or seven total. Harry had to learn how the ritual work to figure out if it was the seven rituals or seven pieces.

"Now it's your turn for a loyalty oath Cyrus. Slughorn said after he'd adjusted his robes so his forearm was fully covered again, he'd pulled up his sleeve so it was bare skin grasping bare skin for the vow.

"I'm not swearing an unbreakable vow." He said flatly.

Harry rolled his eyes, they'd been over this. "You will swear loyalty to me and I will in turn swear I will provide House Greengrass access to all knowledge on Rituals that I possess while you are the Steward for House Black." They could peruse the Black Library for rituals to their heart's content. He needed another loyal lieutenant to take care of a facet of his life he was ill prepared for.

Cyrus relented, he was more than likely posturing to make sure that got included into the ritual. Hary clasped his forearm, and Cyrus his, they both swore the vows and Slughorn binded it, completing another unbreakable vow.

Harry retook his seat and the other two men did as well.

Horace spoke up first, reiterating his earlier suggestion. "You should call the elf and ask Cyrus for any standing orders."

"Right." Harry said. "Kreacher" He called out.

"Regent calls again." He sneered as he bowed again.

"Tell me all of your standing orders from current and previous masters." Harry commanded firmly.

The elf's eyes bulged and he looked to be on the verge of panicking but he was bound by his servitude. "Master Arcturus commanded I not leave Grimmauld Place unless called by himself or a new Regent. Master Regulus ordered me to leave him and to destroy a locket. Mistress Narcissa ordered me to keep a record of all Black family dealings and report to her when she came to Grimmauld Place. Mistress Bellatrix ordered Kreacher to always report the conversations of Master Sirius that Kreacher was able to over hear and to spy on him when possible. Those be standing orders before you be Regent Black."

"Kreacher stay where you are until I give you leave to move." Harry said, trying to fully wrap his mind around what had been ordered.

"Cyrus, do you have any standing orders?" Harry asked with unveiled interest, anger seeping into his tone as he heard processed what some of those orders might mean.

"Orion Black removed my authority so that I could not to interfere in business, political and legal affairs on behalf of the family. In short, I've been relegated to a glorified accounting position. I track and keep organized the family assets and can do no more, I cannot even renew expiring leases."

Harry snorted, it wasn't hard to see how angry the man was. Well, Daphne was correct. The position was completely neutered.

Harry turned to Slughorn, "Advice?"

"Cyrus is loyal, remove all restrictions and have him take up the traditional role. He is to represent your family in the Wizengamot, he is to retain and coordinate legal counsel, and given his background he's to be the financial manager of your family once more. Given how well he has done with House Greengrass it would be prudent." Horace told him his recommendations.

"You'll want to stipulate that I keep you abreast of larger ticket items to have your input on them. The day to day affairs you needn't worry about but the larger picture you should be aware of and have input on. Weekly meetings are a must with a second meeting being recommended until you have a grasp on Hose Black." Cyrus hadn't been asked for his own opinion but he added it anyways.

Harry nodded. "How do I do that?" If he'd signed a magical contract wouldn't it have had to have been modified to remove power and now to add more?

"I can draw up the paperwork and contrast it with how Arcturus set up the original one."

Harry was elated. This was a fucking perfect setup. Neither man could betray him and he could actually trust their advice! He could rely on them and not have to worry about duplicity! He'd longed for this for months now.

"Good, let me know when you that is done so we can meet and run over it. I'm going to use this as my place to conduct business, our meeting point will be here if that is okay with you?" Harry addressed the man.

"Not an issue. I should be done within a day or so."

"Good. Now what to do about Kreacher's standing orders?"

Horace looked at Cyrus who signalled he'd defer to him. "Well, Arcturus' order is standard. Elves can be captured and they have no mental defenses. Elves rarely are permitted to leave the home in which they serve. I'd leave that one."

"Now, Regulus' order…" He scratched his chin "I'm not sure what to make of that. Maybe get the elf to bring the locket here for our examination. Narcissa and Bellatrix's commands you should ask him to recite anything he reported to them. I doubt it will work as they would have more than likely obliviated him of that knowledge. They were using him to spy. Rescind their orders and command he is not to accept any new ones from them nor answer their calls. Any contact with them should be reported to you immediately."

Cyrus had been nodding along and now that he was done he muttered his agreement to the ideas he'd come up with. "Sensible, very sensible."

Harry told Kreacher to tell them anything he could recall about information passed to Narcissa and Bellatrix but Slughorn was correct, he'd not been able to remember any of it, nor any time he had followed the order. Harry followed that up with issuing the orders with only one correction being required, after a potential loophole was pointed out by Cyrus. Now the three men awaited him to return with the locket.

Kreacher popped back in and he was clutching an ornate locket with a prominent snake in the shape of an 'S' on the font.

The second Kreacher showed up Harry felt his ring grow warm, the Potter peridot Head of House ring. He could feel his magic interacting with it. He didn't know what it was doing but he could feel something with his fledgling magical sensing ability. It felt like protection, cleansing and a sense of self.

Harry's eyes narrowed on the locket. There was something off about it. A malevolence and sense of contempt that perverted the air and magic around it.

"Kreacher place the locket on the middle of the desk face up."

Harry could see the elf wanted to do _anything_ else but he didn't, he couldn't. His hate filled eyes never left Harry as he placed the locket on the desk and muttered obscenities and disparaging things about Harry.

"No! It can't be!" Slughorn appeared to recognize it. "Slytherin's lost locket." He breathed out reverently. His arm came up and his hand reached toward it, his hand open and closing on it.

Harry snapped out of the daze he'd been in as he was reacting to his ring and the presence of the locket. His wand shot into his hand and he wordlessly petrified Slughorn.

"Don't touch it." He snapped. "There is something _wrong_ with that locket." His eyes were smoldering as he glared at the petrified man and dared the other to attempt to reach for it.

Cyrus shook his head twice, quickly. "I wouldn't touch that thing. It's tainted, vile. I can feel it pressing against my mind, trying to influence it." The man was frowning. His eyes met Harry's again. He gestured to his wand, "may I?"

Harry gave a short nod but kept his dangerous look and wand ready to disarm or petrify him.

Cyrus didn't turn his wand on the locket, to analyze it as Harry thought he would. Instead, he put it on Slughorn and cast a silent spell Harry wasn't familiar with before he restored his ability to move. "Horace, snap out of it."

Horace sat back down heavily. He closed his eyes and took three deep calming breaths before he opened them again, his hand wiped his forehead off. He had a sheepish look on his face when he spoke, "Sorry, I hadn't expected such a presence. What did you stumble into Regulus? What folly is this?"

He withdrew his own wand and began casting detection spells at it. "Where did he get this?!" Slughorn demanded to know of the elf.

Harry recognized the spell. With dawning horror, he realized what sat in front of him. He gulped, "Homenum revelio" he incanted for Cyrus' benefit. The spell showed the three of them and the locket as a fourth positive identification of a human soul.

Cyrus opened his mouth at the realization of what four positive identifications meant. He closed it and frowned looking between the other two. Slughorn was outraged at first and now he was slumped in his chair, melancholic at this discovery. His eyes wavered over to Harry and saw the most intense look on the young man. He was solely focused on the locket.

"Wh-, wha-, what is this?" He couldn't believe there was a human in the locket but the spell wasn't wrong. Horace and Harry had both cast the spell with the same results.

Harry shook his head. "I'll explain in a second," he said to Cyrus and then turned to Kreacher, "explain where Regulus got it and what you know about it. Now." He snapped the order out.

"Kreacher accompanied the Dark Lord to a cave, a terrible cave filled with dark magic and inferi. He made Kreacher drink the vile potion and then put the locket in the basin before refilling it and leaving." His voice was horse and eyes were filled with dread at the retelling of this event.

"M-, ma- master Regulus commanded Kreacher to return when he was done so Kreacher returned to beloved Master." Kreacher was stuttering and barely getting the words out.

"Master, Master, he.. He forced me to bring him there." He paused and let out a sob.

"He drank it. He drank the potion." Kreacher wailed out. "Master, he, he, he p- p- put a f- fake in." Tears were welling and falling from his big eyes now. He blew his nose on his disgusting cloth. "They c- c- came. The dead came and master, Master, he commanded me. He told me to leave and destroy the locket. T- t- t- to leave and _never_ speak of it." The old elf was on his knees now crying and punishing himself, his balled fistes constantly hitting himself in the head.

"Kreacher, stop." Harry told him. "I know what that is and how to destroy it." Harry waited for the elf to gain a semblance of composure and look at him, desperation and hope replacing the hate and loathing he'd normally found in the elf's eyes.

"I will destroy it, and any more like it." He stated with conviction.

"You can't destroy it! That's Slytherin's locket! Said to be the only artifact that allows a non-parseltongue to speak and understand the language. It's a priceless artifact!" Horace hadn't gotten out of his chair but he was sitting upright and pleading with Harry.

"Can you dispatch the soul without destroying it? I assume basilisk venom would destroy it."

Slughorn looked unsure, "The Killing curse should work." He stated.

"Should work?" He challenged back, parroting his words.

"Horcruxes aren't a well documented magic. It should work but I've never read an account of anyone using it. Basilisk venom and fiendfyre _have_ been documented as successful. But, it should work."

Harry shook his head. "Try it. If it doesn't work I'm destroying it today."

Harry stood up and moved around the desk again. Cyrus was keeping silent but obviously listening intently.

Horace drew his wand and spoke the words that played over and over in Harry's nightmares. The green flash followed and the locket stayed on the desk. Harry had closed his eyes not wanting to see the full spell again, he saw it enough in his own dreams.

Harry opened his eyes and saw a beaming Slughorn. "Only three human souls left in the room now." He grinned and then turned his attention back to the locket. After casting a slew of spells he reached out and picked up the locket. Brandishing it he stated with great satisfaction "It's free of any taint and safe."

Slughorn passed it to Harry and Harry took it. He noticed his Potter ring wasn't warm any longer. Something to think on later he mused. He showed it to Cyrus but did not hand it to him. After letting him get a good look at it he went back to his chair.

"I'll be keeping this," he said as he sat down, "nobody can know of this, not even a hint of it." Harry placed the locket on the desk in front of Kreacher. "The locket isn't destroyed but the soul within it was, Master Regulus' last wish has been fulfilled, you are released from that order."

The elf dropped to his knees and sobbed. "Thank you Master, thank you." He didn't say more as he switched between staring at the locket and silently sobbing.

"Sorry for not explaining Cyrus. A horcrux is the result of a person splitting their soul and putting it in a container, the container is called a horcrux. This is the second horcrux I've seen, both are now destroyed."

Cyrus sat there in a state of shock. "You-Know-Who isn't dead?" He'd put the puzzle pieces together quickly.

"Yes." Harry said gravely. "And that brings me back to the two purposes I had for bringing the two of you together. I want your advice and to tackle two things for me." He waited for both men to acknowledge they'd heard him and that he had their undivided attention.

"There are two tasks I have for both of you, and I think you'll agree with what I'm asking. The first is that I want you to get Sirius Black's name cleared. He's innocent and my godfather."

"Innocent?" Cyrus choked out. "That can't be."

"I don't think you need a vow from me to know I'm stating the truth. Pettigrew was the betrayer and framed Sirius. He never received a trial and I want that wrong corrected."

The two men shared a glance. "We'll do what we can, though I'll need to have the contract done first before I can do all that much." Cyrus stated.

Harry nodded, "That's fine and as I expected."

"The second thing?" Slughorn prompted.

"Prepare for war." Harry told them ominously. "Voldemort is in a half-life state and Pettigrew is with him trying to bring him back. He tried in first year and his horcrux tried in second year. Third year Pettigrew escaped to help him and this year my name comes out of the Goblet of Fire. He's working to return and we need to prepare for the worst."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this chapter and the last one already in my head before publishing Ch 20. Nice and easy to write. Don't expect another update in a week, I've got a busy week upcoming but who knows maybe I'll find the time. I hadn't expected this one to get out. I feel like the fic is in a nice groove right now and I don't foresee issues with writing the next number of chapters. I've seen a couple reviews mention the second task. I think one maybe two chapters till we get there. There's a few things to accomplish first. I'm glad I'm still able to pump out the content when I get the time.
> 
> All the comments re this girl vs that girl, or harem vs no harem, great stuff, it's interesting to see people's perception and reactions to the chapters and how things change. I did answer a number of reviews with questions but I'll not be giving a definite answer on final relationship status, it's a big part of the fun I think, plus it could always change.
> 
> Also, if there are translation issues PM me. I use google translate which is obviously flawed.
> 
> Obviously no beta work was done again.
> 
> As always, thanks for the reviews, follows, favs and support.


	23. Conversations, Guarantees and a Blackout

_Parseltongue is a magical language. It is not possible for a human body to perfectly replicate the necessary speech patterns. Magic allows for it where it should not exist. What's more, there has been debate as to what happens when a speaker of the serpent tongue commands a snake. How is an animal able to take complex instructions and follow them when many of the breeds have no intelligence beyond base instinct? Does magic imbue them with intelligence? Do they borrow it, for lack of a better word?_

_It's a mystery as to the exact mechanics of how it functions and, ultimately, unimportant. Parseltongue's true value is not found in its ability to talk to serpents. It is the written format that Parseltongue finds its most important function._

_One cannot simply write parseltongue. There is no instrument and no ink involved in writing it. Parseltongue is magical language that must be written by one's own magic. When you are reading my words you are not simply just reading them, as you would with any other book. You are interacting with my magic, my intent, my creativity, my willpower and my power. You are not taking in just the words I am writing, but rather the essence of what I am conveying._

_I could write this in a made up language that only I understand. I could have written this a millennia before and there will __**never**_ _be any difficulty in translation. You are understanding this in your own language, as if you knew what I know and are writing it in perfect clarity to yourself. There is no loss of knowledge, no misunderstandings. Do you understand the value of the language?_

_You are being given __**my**_ _knowledge. What you are reading you will not just be able to perfectly recall. You are gaining my understanding of magic. You are not gaining mere knowledge. You are gaining instinctive knowledge. What you learn from me you are learning as something far greater than facts and memorized theories out of a text. It is hard to describe exactly._

_An example will explain it best. Learning magic by reading a textbook works. It can tell you how to command the broom, how to steer it and so on and so forth. If one learned to fly a broom from reading Parseltongue they would get all of that __**and**_ _the instinctive knowledge. The first time they rode a broom their body would already instinctively understand what is required for it to turn left. Whereas one who just read a normal book would have the knowledge of what to do and need to learn how to turn what their head knows into instinct._

_When passing on knowledge of magic you are gaining __**my**_ _instincts. You are gaining __**my**_ _knowledge. The understanding you are being imparted with is __**mine**__. Parseltongue is the greatest teaching tool in the magical world._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It had been one of the things that Harry had _really_ been wondering about. How could Salazar Slytherin leave memoirs that were written in modern english? This explained it. Finally! Harry had a huge smile on his face, he couldn't help it. Things were coming together.

But wow! This would explain why he was learning so quickly. Harry was far more studious than he had ever really been at any other point in his life. Still, the results he was experiencing were hard to believe. He'd blitzed through material to be able to write some OWLs as if he were a german armored division crashing through the Ardennes during the Fall of France.

Now he was absorbing material that was all past where he would have been at the end of this year. He was getting close to writing his NEWTs in wanded subjects and he was already past OWL level for Runes and Arithmancy. At this pace he'd be finished with the entire NEWT curriculum before the Third Task.

This explained how he was able to make such prolific progress.

He didn't need to train his magic and body on how to do the magic. He didn't need to go over the material for clarifications or to remember something he hadn't quite managed to remember.

Honestly, if Purebloods all had hereditary gifts that were as effective as Parseltongue he could understand where the prejudiced attitudes could have come from. If Harry was able to replicate something like this for his future children they could be out of Hogwarts before they'd normally write their OWLs. If he could become one of the world's greatest wizards, then he could guide his own children to reach similar greatness by the age of seventeen, or at most, shortly thereafter.

If Harry could do it, why hadn't Slytherin? Why was the world not overrun with parseltongue prodigies? He was a legend. A man who'd carved out a legacy that would never die out as long as Hogwarts stood. So why had this legendary man not had tons of super serpent spawn sloughing around?

Was this the purpose of the Chamber of Secrets? A chamber built to protect these secrets?

What was it that the Sorting Hat had said? Riddle's access was revoked. He was deemed _unworthy_. Harry had been worthy of what the Hat called Salazar's greatest work.

It was these types of thoughts that worked through Harry's head while he showered after this morning's ritual on strengthening his physical body. So far he had completed four full sets. Seven for the mind, seven for magical rejuvenation, seven for physical rejuvenation, seven for magical strength and he was now four of seven for physical strength. With the one special ritual he'd completed, the Dragon Power Ritual, he was at thirty-three. At two per week he should be at his full seven sets of seven in April, two months before the Third Task.

Today had been productive. Harry had the idea to incorporate Cuddles into his target practice this morning. He'd long since graduated from twenty-five targets from forty paces. He was up to fifty moving targets from twenty paces. He was going to step back further when he had the idea to let Cuddles try and defend targets.

The degree of difficulty changes rapidly when there is a two-hundred pound dragon flying around trying to make your spells ricochet off herself. It had become a great game. Harry still fired piercing hexes but he varied them greatly. He'd manged to vary their speed and alter their size, making them larger or smaller at his whim. In some ways, he felt like a baseball pitcher.

He'd shoot a slow change up off at one moving target and then fire a fastball of a hex towards the opposite end, timing it so that they both tried to connect with their targets near the same time. It had taken a lot of practice to set that up the first few times, but he was getting quite good at it now. Nevertheless, he was done with his ritual, his training and had spent hours studying. It was now time to think of a late lunch.

Should he go up and eat with the Hogwarts populace or should he call Dobby and ask for some lunch? He could go to Arcturus' old place and have Kreacher provide food too, but that place felt off. He spent far too long there with Horace and Cyrus. They'd discussed how to free Sirius, what to do about the Tournament, and precautions to take in case Voldemort returned and a war followed. It was rather late when Cyrus had left and Harry had brought up the final topic with Slughorn: marriage prospects.

It was almost a surreal conversation. He was talking about himself and possibilities of marriage. Pros and cons for each girl, for their families, financially, politically and ever children and succession were discussed at length. The first item in that list was to deal with the offered betrothal contract. Slughorn had excellent advice and had relayed it to Harry. He'd offered to draft a letter and sort it out but Harry didn't want to go that route. Most communication with the Pavlov family had been through Natalia and he would prefer to keep it that way.

Speak of the devil…. Harry saw he had a note from Natalia that he hadn't read, she must have just sent it.

_Guess where I am today?_

Odd question Harry thought.

_Lacroix's studio?_

_Nope. Try again._

_Your house?_

_Nope. Try again, but think of a place you've spent a lot of time at since you were 11._

_Hogwarts? _What the bloody hell would she be doing at Hogwarts.

_Where and why?!_

_If you come see me I'll tell you. I'm not there yet but I should be in the entrance hall in 15._

That worked with his plans. He could meet Natalia, find out why she was at Hogwarts and get lunch.

_See you then._ Harry wrote back before closing the book.

It was always great amusement for Harry when someone wanted him to come to Hogwarts. He was there. All the time.

It didn't take him long to get showered, dressed and find his way to the entrance hall. He'd crept out of the Chamber using his cloak and took it off when he was out of sight just before entering the meeting point. He'd tucked his cloak away and was a little more careful with it now that he understood how unique it was. Fleur had promised to help research more and he'd hold her to that. He'd have to visit the Delacours soon anyways to get a cloak from them, perhaps after the Second Task.

Harry didn't have to wait long for Natalia to show up and when she caught sight of him her eyes lit up. She picked up her pace and gave him a big hug.

"I missed you." She told him, a large smile had blossomed on her face.

Harry stepped out of the hug, "It's nice to see you, it feels like it's been quite a while." Harry said. "What are you doing here?"

"You haven't figured it out yet?" She asked, teasingly.

Harry held out his arm to escort her and replied "No, not yet."

"Well isn't this fun." She smirked at him.

Harry didn't bother responding to that, he was quite hungry. "Join me for lunch? I haven't eaten any yet."

"Sure, I came earlier than necessary, I was hoping you could give me a tour of the castle."

"I can do that." He let her know and they started moving towards their intended destination.

After they'd taken a couple steps together without her saying more Harry got annoyed "You're not going to tell me?"

"Where's the fun in that? I thought you might like to guess."

"It has to do with the tournament?" Harry assumed it would as she had no other reason as to why she would be here. She was a Durmstrang student and not even from England. She'd only ever come to Hogwarts for the tournament, so Harry thought it was a good assumption.

"Yep. How could you ask that and not know?" She raised her eyebrow at him.

So he was right… The answer just wasn't jumping out at him. "You came early to watch the Second Task?"

She giggled at him. "No, I've been asked to take part in the Second Task, though I was told I'm not supposed to tell you." She smirked again.

The realization dawned on Harry. "You're what I'm rescuing tomorrow?!"

"You didn't know it was a person?"

"No." He said through gritted teeth.

As if it wasn't enough that there was a plot against him, now they were going to be endangering other people!

"You agreed to be my hostage?! How could you put yourself in danger?!" Harry was livid at the tournament organizers and he couldn't filter out the frustration from his response.

"Of course. I couldn't let anyone else play the role of your fair maiden." She batted her eyelashes at him.

Harry stopped their progress, tightly gripping her arms with his hands. "This isn't a game, Natalia. Dragons. Dragons were the First Task! You could _die_." He told her fiercely.

Her look softened. "Thanks Harry, for caring." She kissed him on the cheek. "I know that, though, and so does my father. It's why I'm here today. The organizers will sign a binding contract that I will not come to harm. If they don't… I guess your first guess will be right, I'll just be here a day early to watch." She said brightly and reached up and patted him on the other cheek affectionately.

"Which table are we sitting at?" Natalia asked, seeing the Great Hall in its normal setup for the first time. "Where do you normally sit?"

They'd stopped just inside the Great Hall and Harry was deciding where to sit. "I was a Gryffindor when I attended here and always sat at the table with the red and gold clad students. I've sat with Hufflepuff quite a bit and even a few times at Ravenclaw." He indicated which table was which as he explained where he'd sat since the start of the new year.

Harry glanced over at each table, he didn't see his quidditch teammates there and he didn't see Fleur, not that he was sure he'd want to sit Natalia and Fleur together again. At the Hufflepuff table he did see Cedric sitting with Cho and Susan, but Hannah and Daphne weren't with them.

"How about we sit at Hufflepuff with Cedric and Cho. Do you remember meeting them?"

"Of course." She said as if he shouldn't have bothered asking the question.

Harry led her to the trio.

"Hello Harry, Natalia." Cedric said in greeting.

"Hey Cedric. Don't mind if we join you?"

"Not at all, Harry." Cho said before Cedric could finish the bite of food he'd been working to swallow.

Harry sat down across from Cedric. Natalia was across from Cho and Susan was on the other side of Cho.

"So why are you here?" Susan asked with an inquisitive look to her. "Hogwarts doesn't normally accept guests. Is it for the Second Task?"

Natalia looked up from putting food on her place "I'm not supposed to say." A small smile on her face. She turned her attention onto Cho. "Have they asked you yet?"

Cho stopped the motion of her fork halfway to her mouth. "Asked me what?" She tilted her head curiously.

Natalia looked at Cedric, "You know about tomorrow right? Any idea why I might be here?"

Cedric looked at her seriously, his nostrils flared and facial muscles tightened. It was clear to everyone he was doing his best to figure out what Natalia was inferring to. The lightbulb turning on moment hit and his face paled when it did. His knuckles were white as he tightened the grip on his fork and knife.

"A person, not a thing?" He asked in dread.

He looked at Harry for confirmation. Harry gave him a pained smile. "Apparently so." He said grimly, the mood darkening within the group.

"What are you talking about?" Susan said it but Harry thought it was Cho who looked most interested. "How is she involved with the task?"

Harry had no qualms about stating what he knew, he was not prevented from saying anything and Cedric had obviously figured it out. "Natalia is here today to make sure her family is okay with the contract they are going to sign to ensure she does not come to any harm in the task tomorrow. She'll be a hostage I need to rescue."

Cho's sharp intellect didn't miss putting two and two together. "And as Cedric's date to the Yule Ball, you think I'll be asked to as well?" She didn't seem pleased at the prospect.

"That's what they told me, they are asking for the dates of the Champions and, I think, for Fleur and Viktor they wanted a family member." She shrugged after her casual dissemination of information, now that she'd told four others it was sure to spread quickly. "They had to ask me to come as I don't attend here and am not a part of the Durmstrang contingent. Karkaroff owled my family and demanded that I must take part." She paused and smirked before continuing, "Father wasn't pleased with the wording. He lit into the Highmaster and had some demands of his own that _must_ be satisfied if they are to consider using me in their task, especially given the security concerns for the tournament."

"Your father had to demand a contract to guarantee your safety?!" Cho asked heatedly. "If they want me to take part they are going to have to have one for me as well."

"I think I should owl Auntie. They can't just _make_ people participate who didn't sign up for it!" She seemed as upset at the prospect as Cho and Cedric were, the latter having gone eerily quiet.

Harry coughed twice and then started laughing lightly.

"Oh right…" Susan mumbled out, her face reddening in embarrassment at forgetting how Harry had ended up in this mess.

"It's alright Susan. You should owl your Aunt though. It would be good to have her involved." He turned to Cho. "You might want to tag along with Natalia when she goes and demand the same if they plan to have you involved.

"Owl your parents too, they need to know. As a minor, they should have to approve it like they do for Hogsmeade trips. It isn't a part of the Hogwarts curriculum that they enrolled you for, it's an optional extra, like Hogsmeade trips." Cedric added on to Harry's line of thought.

Harry nodded along at that, it was good reasoning. A sudden thought popped to the forefront of his mind. "Should we tell Viktor and Fleur? I'd be sick if something happened to _anyone_, hostage or competitor, and if their family members are involved… I'd want to know."

"We should tell them. I think we all know what the clue is." Cedric said firmly.

Harry agreed with the Hufflepuff but was internally amused at the sense of fair play they exhibited.

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and found Viktor was eating his lunch in the usual spot. "I'll go get Viktor then." He hadn't seen Fleur at the Ravenclaw table but could always find her after lunch.

He stood up and purposefully strode over to Viktor, making eye contact with him as he got closer.

"Harry." He greeted him stoically.

"Viktor." He returned. "You know what the task is?"

"Yes."

"Do you know you will be recovering a person not a thing?" Harry asked lowly, he was standing just off the end of the table and ignoring anyone else at the table. He hadn't come to do anything but inform Viktor.

Viktor's mood changed the instant Harry finished his question. "A person?" He demanded, ensuring he understood correctly.

Harry gave him a curt nod. "Natalia told us. You might want to join Cedric and I. We thought you should know."

Viktor dropped his cutlery and stood immediately. "Who?" He asked, his eyes intense, the look he'd have when playing quidditch Harry assumed.

"Natalia for me, Cho for Cedric and as you and Fleur can't be each other's hostages, a family member? That's the information Natalia gave us."

Viktor had an intensity to him that was frightening. "I'll join you." He said through gritted teeth.

Harry marched back to the table with Viktor right along with him. He sat down beside Harry.

"Viktor." Natalia acknowledged him.

"Natatlia." He grudgingly returned, though Natalia looked like she was quite happy with the exchange.

Just as Harry was going to bring everyone up to speed Daphne and Hannah showed up.

"It looks like we're missing something serious here." Hannah said as she sat down beside Susan, she gave a hug to her best friend.

Daphne walked around the table and asked Viktor if she could slide in beside Harry. He didn't respond but slid over as he was asked to.

"So what new trouble has found you, Harry?" Daphne asked with all attention turning to him.

Harry sighed. "The next task involves us recovering something. Except we found out it's not _something_ but _someone_."

Daphne stopped piling food on her plate. She craned her neck to look at him directly, after seeing Cedric's inclination that it was the truth. "They are going to put others into danger just so you can rescue them?"

Hannah was appalled. "But they used dragons in the first task! Mothering dragons for Merlin's sake! What are they going to do? Ask you to rescue a hostage from another five-x beast?"

"No." Cedric answer. He gave a significant look to Viktor, "you solved the egg?" Krum grunted in acknowledgement. "We all know… we have to rescue them from the depths of the Black Lake. It said we have an hour to do so, or else we'd be too late." Cedric finished darkly, looking very opposed to the idea of this task.

Hannah gasped at that. "Who are they using?" She looked between Cedric, Cho, Harry and Natalia.

"That is what I want to know." Krum interrupted a response with a growl.

The newcomers looked to Harry. He sighed, "Fine. I'll fill everyone in on what I know." He quickly reiterated what Natalia had told him and let them know everything he did.

"Natalia has the right of it." Daphne stated authoritatively. "Cho, you need to get your parents involved and ensure they inform Hogwarts they do not grant permission. The school has limited power to make decisions in place of your parents. They may try and use that authority to claim they were permitted to use you in the task. I can already guarantee they will say they didn't ask for your guardians permission because it was a school sanctioned event and secrecy was paramount to the integrity of the task."

She didn't slow her words as she turned to Viktor next. "Whose coming from your family?"

"My mother." Krum said through his glowering visage.

Daphne nodded and she ran her hand through her long hair. "She's not a citizen in this country. They can hold or incapacitate her for up to twelve hours without notifying the ICW. If they used her for the task, kidnapping her from being a spectator, you'll have very limited recourse. Bulgaria can launch a protest but if nothing happens to her under the lake you'll not have an issue."

"I tell her not to come." He said after taking a few seconds to decide on how to respond to what Daphne told him.

"And then how will you protect the next person they kidnap for you to rescue? You might not even know who it is." Daphne repulsed his plan right away.

"Then we won't compete unless they remove the hostages." Cedric said.

Daphne shook her head immediately. "No, that won't work. You're magically bound to compete, there's no leverage there. Leverage… that's what you need! You'll have to force them to not be pillocks. The DMLE and the press are your best bets."

"I'm on it. I"ll go message Auntie right now." Sue got up made to leave immediately.

"I'll go with her." Hannah said as she had stood right with her friend and the two left briskly.

"Thanks." Cedric called after his two housemates.

"Yeah, thanks." Harry said looking at Daphne. "Your insight is really helpful."

Daphne pinked under the sudden gratitude from the two champions.

Natalia scowled at Harry praising another girl his age and ensured she was helpful as well. "Harry, don't you have the one press agent at your beck and call? I'm sure she'd love to cover this."

Harry grinned. "Yes, Sam would love to break this story."

"I'll talk to her too Harry, if you trust her I will too. I signed up for this but Cho didn't. I don't want her being risked. I never imagined we would face a dragon! They said it would be safer and the only reason it was safe was because three dragons died! Imagine if we each had to face our own, a Horntail even!"

"I talk too." Viktor added. "Find me at the ship. I tell them to get me if you or Cedric come." He stood up to leave, having not wanted to eat anything more after discarding his food at the Slytherin table. Before he turned away from the table he looked at them. "Thanks," he said and then he locked in on Natalia, "all of you." He turned on the spot when he finished and stalked out of the hall.

"What next?" Cho asked, bringing everyone's attention back to the matter at hand. "I need to message my parents, Harry needs to get a hold of his friend in the press, but what else do we need to do?"

Harry thought it was funny the only Ravenclaw here was making a task list and getting ready to dole out jobs like this was a group project for class.

"Fleur needs to be informed too. Harry should cover that, as he's friendly with her and her family." Daphne spoke up once more. "I'll talk to Natalia about what was requested on the contract and Father too. He should know as the Steward of House Black." She said pointedly.

Harry nodded and then stood up as well. "I'll tell Fleur and get a hold of Samantha. I'll suggest a group interview for all the Champions on the eve of the Second Task. We'll wait for Madame Bones to get involved and demand, if everyone agrees to be involved, that a similar one is setup. Madame Bones should be involved as the DMLE is supposed to be helping with security."

Daphne agreed but Natalia did not look pleased. Harry was certain it was from his familiarity with Daphne and now the errand to find Fleur.

"Maybe I should go with Harry, he was going to give me a tour of the castle." She interjected her own hope for the day into the plans.

"You can do that after, we have things to discuss." A meaningful look was exchanged between them.

Harry had no idea what it was about, but Natalia looked menacing.

"We do." She said and Harry was worried about the tone in which she said it.

This wasn't the time to be dealing with that, so he went to go deal with his two tasks. He gave an awkward hug to Natalia and left the Great Hall.

Harry quickly made his way out of the castle and was headed to the Beauxbaton delegation's carriage. He made it to the entrance and after a broken half-understood conversation he was taken to Fleur's room.

He knocked on the door and someone Harry hadn't expected opened it. Harry heard an eardrum shattering squeal and felt the impact of an overly excited young veela plowing into him at what felt like terminal velocity. "Oomph." He exclaimed as he caught Gabrielle in a big hug.

"Qu'est-ce que tu as si excité, gosse?" He heard Fleur call out, the voice getting closer as her footsteps did.

"Ah," She said and her face lit up at the sight of him, "'Arry, did you come to visit me?" Her lips formed a wicked grin, "Or did you just wish to come see my _derrière_?" The glint of humor in her eyes didn't reduce his embarrassment at her words, especially in front of her young sister! Fleur turned "It does look good in these shorts, non?"

Harry did his best to not react; it failed. He hadn't expected that she wouldn't be able to fluster him so easily; he thought he was getting used to her teasing! It was the unexpected nerve she had to make such a comment in front of her little sister that had him completely unguarded from it.

Harry didn't both trying to peel Gabrielle off of him. He allowed her to stick to his leg. Now that he was thinking straight he caught Fleur's eyes. "We need to talk about tomorrow, it's serious." He willed her to understand the time for teasing wasn't now.

"Gabrielle let 'arry in." She said sternly.

Gabrielled stopped hugging him and gave him an impish look. She grabbed his hand and pulled him in, shutting the door behind her.

Harry moved into the spartan room and let himself be sat on the bed. Fleur sat in the chair beside a small desk and waited for him to explain.

"Natalia is here today, she was asked to participate in tomorrow's task." Fleur's eyebrows shot up at this and Harry didn't fail to notice her pout at him mentioning Natalia.

"Karkaroff demanded she is used as a hostage tomorrow. Viktor, Cedric and I all thought the riddle meant we'd rescue a something, not a someone."

"And you are to rescue Natalia?" Fleur asked, not pleased with the words leaving her mouth.

"Apparently they are using mine and Cedric's dates from the Yule Ball." He told her, irked at having to explain this for a third time and the involvement of others.

"Viktor and I went together… who would they use?" Fleur asked, smartly understanding the issue.

Harry's lips thinned and he didn't need to say anything. He'd already guessed. His eyes found Gabrielle and conveyed the message he didn't need to speak.

"Non!" She gasped, both her hands shooting to her mouth. "Gabbi?! At the bottom of the lake, in winter?!" Harry felt the magic rolling off her. It was hot, passionate and righteously angry.

"Calm Fleur, calm." He leaned forward and his hand made contact with her forearm.

"Calm? 'Ow could I be calm?" She narrowed her eyes dangerously at him.

"We are already working to put a stop to it, or ensure their safety."

She didn't respond, her eyes burned with fury and she awaited the explanation with the morsel of patience she had left. She crossed her arms, her foot was tapping rapidly and her eyes held a danger within them, just beneath the surface. Harry could still feel her magic, she hadn't reigned it in fully yet.

"Daphne believes the school may have a legal grey-area to kidnap and force participation. Only because Natalia is out of the country and they could not ensure she was here did we find out about it. Her father forced them to sign a magically binding contract to ensure her safety."

"And how does that help protect Gabrielle?"

The little veela, who Harry thought barely understood English, if she did at all, looked between them before shrugging and resumed huggine Harry's side.

"Susan is contacting her Aunt, Amelia Bones, the Director of the DMLE, and all the champions are aware. I'm going to get a hold of my contact with the press as soon as I'm done here and we'll see if the DMLE or press can ensure they are not used, or are at least safe." Harry's voice was firm and filled with his determination to ensure nobody else could get roped into this ridiculous tournament.

"I'll floo Papa and get him here. He won't allow Gabrielle to be put in any sort of danger. Maman cannot attend today or tomorrow. She was just coming to watch her big sister and you, her favorite teddy bear." Fleur tried to add a little humor but her heart wasn't in it.

Harry gave a half smile for the attempt.

"Okay, I'm going to go get in touch with Samantha Roberts, then find out what is going on with everyone else. Cho was contacting her parents and Viktor's mom was coming, he went back to the ship but told us to grab him when we need him."

"I'm sending Gabrielle home and will ask Papa to come deal with this." She nodded decisively and then stood up. "I'll come find you, and the others, when I am done."

Harry stood and was grateful when Fleur whispered something in french to Gabrielle so she detached herself from him. He stepped away to leave, but Fleur's hand caught a hold of him.

"Wait, 'arry." She said softly. "Merci, thank you. She means the world to me. I could never risk her." She said, her voice steeped with emotion. She advanced on him and wrapped him up in a tight hug. "You are such a good, honest man." She whispered to him and didn't lessen her grip on him.

Harry returned the hug until she let him go.

She began to disentangle from the hug and stopped with mere inches between their faces. Harry could feel her breath on his face.

"This doesn't make me like you less." She gave him a small smile and Harry could see the sincerity in her blue eyes. She kissed him on the cheek. "We won't forget this 'arry."

She stepped away and opened the door so he could exit the room. "I'll see you soon." She told him and then began to speak at the upset Gabrielle. Harry heard her call to him and stopped in the doorway and turned around.

He knelt down and opened his arms, knowing Gabrille wanted a hug goodbye, even though he didn't follow her rapid fire french. He gave her a hug and then left. Today wasn't turning out to be fun.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

After Harry had informed Fleur what was going on things went pear-shaped quickly. Parents arriving demanding to know what was going on. The DMLE got involved. The Ministry, the contestants and even the press showed up to ask questions. It quickly devolved into quite a mess and it took Dumbledore imposing silence on them all to convene a meeting in the evening to discuss the Second Task for the next day.

Harry had meant to show Natalia around the school, but she had disappeared with Daphne and not returned. Now there was a mess of people as Cho's parents had refused to leave until this was sorted out. Patrice Delacour had come and Gabrielle had been returned home, for now, as a precaution. Viktor had retreated into his ship after getting an update.

Harry was wondering what he was going to do now.

"Harry, would you join me and Fleur while we wait for the meeting?" Patrice asked, the kind of asking that let him know it was perfectly alright to turn down his offer.

"Sure… I was looking for Natalia, as I told her I'd give her a tour of the school, plus she's supposed to be my hostage, but I haven't seen her since she ducked out with Daphne." Harry frowned and looked around the entrance again.

"That's fine if you'd like to look for her. I was just hoping for a quick word."

Harry decided to hedge his bets. Natalia hadn't come right back to him, so whatever she was doing with Daphne had taken precedence over the planned tour. He'd join the Delacours and go from there.

They stepped into the antechamber, off the entry hall, and Patrice put up some privacy spells. Harry got the same feeling as he did when Fleur put up her own.

Patrice withdrew a cloak from within his pocket. "I'd wanted to present this with the whole family present, but you may have use of it first." He put out his hand and handed the item to Harry.

It was the invisibility cloak Fleur had pushed for. He looked at her gratefully.

"I don't know _why_ Fleur was insistent on that but, no one will know you did not already possess it."

"Thank you." Harry said. He really meant it.

Patrice waived it off, "Think nothing of it. We should have done more to contact you. Then, when you tell us of this? I'd happily pay a cloak for the safety of my daughter." He shook his head. "Dragons for the first task, and they wish to put my child at the bottom of the lake without my permission?!" He fumed. "Non, we will put an end to that tonight. You've done us another great deed Harry."

Harry decided to reply cheekily. "Think nothing of it. What are friends of the family good for, if not this?"

"And I will do what I can to make sure the Potter and Delacour families stay close friends." He said gaily after chuckling at Harry's familiar response.

"Was there anything else?" Harry asked.

It all seemed a little odd, as Patrice could have just slipped the cloak to Fleur to give to him.

"Oui." He looked a little uncertain of how to say whatever was on his mind. "I understand there has been workings going on behind the scenes. There are rumblings House Black is active once more."

Harry nodded perceptively but didn't comment yet. Fleur stood still, seemingly content to listen.

"A Steward is active and a law firm has been retained again. Their business interests are becoming active and something major is coming in the political world. This is what I am hearing."

Harry nodded again, slowly this time. There still wasn't a question and he wasn't going to comment without one.

"You withdrew the restraints on Cyrus Greengrass? Do you know how that relationship works?" Harry thought he actually looked concerned.

"I believe so. I have a political advisor now too."

"A Steward and political advisor?" Fleur asked, frowning.

"Yes. I trust them both." He said simply.

"Not because the Steward is bound to the House of Black though, correct?" Patrice asked in such a way he didn't believe that he had made a mistake, he was more checking it wasn't the case.

"No, I was advised against that." He let them know.

"Bon. They can act against you if they believe it is for the best interest of the family. It has happened before."

"Do you mind if I ask why you are so sure of their trust?" Fleur had looked a little apprehensive since he'd said he trusted them.

Harry grinned, "A carefully worded unbreakable vow."

"Non! Who would do such a thing?" Her beautiful face was marred with a look of disbelief by the notion.

It was a little bit of a calculated move by Harry here. Nobody outside of those two would be aware of the breakable vow. Even if either Delacour said something there was no proof, nor did they know the specific wording or vow. He'd given Fleur a little tope of trust and she'd made good use of it with the cloak. He was giving them a little more and would see they are further trustworthy or they'd hang their relationship with him with it.

"Cyrus Greengrass, my Steward, and my political advisor." Harry was unsure if he should give up his association with Slughorn. It would come out that they were friendly when he made his next public appearance with the man, but nobody was aware of it yet.

Harry doubted it really mattered one way or another.

"Are you willing to tell us who the unnamed advisor is?" Patrice asked.

Aain, he didn't feel like an answer was being demanded. It really felt like they were respecting him as an adult, as his own person. They'd inquire but wouldn't demand; Harry really enjoyed it. It was just another instance of the Delacour family making him feel comfortable.

"Horace Slughorn, the man who advised my mother." There was a sternness to his tone that let them know it wasn't something they could debate the choice.

"Your mother was muggleborn." Fleur stated confused. "Why would she have an advisor for politics?"

Patrice answered his daughter."Because Horace always maintained a group for superb students and Lily Evans was truly a standout student. It was said she was better than Severus Snape at Potions, a protégée of Flitwick's in Charms and even the top scoring student in Ancient Runes for her year at Hogwarts. She was an impressive witch with the world ahead of her as the Lady Potter."

"Oh." Fleur said, humbled by the words of her father. "Was it known Horace Slughorn advised her? Did he do that for all promising students?"

"Not that I know of." Harry said before looking to see if Patrice knew differently.

"Non, I don't believe so either. I don't think it was known that he even did it for your mother. As a friend of the Potters, admittedly not a close one, our family wasn't aware."

There was no accusation in the tone.

Fleur had a calculating look to her, "Did your mother get contracted to your father?" She paused at his blank look and then laid out her reasoning for the question. "She wouldn't be wealthy that young, at least in the wizarding world, and the two most important aspects of her life after graduation would be career and marriage prospects, with job prospects being substantially improved in England if she married well."

Harry sighed, he hadn't planned to disclose that to anyone beyond Sirius and Remus, but she'd figured it out from one comment he could have chosen not to make.

"Yes, she was. However, every indication said it was a loving marriage. For obvious reasons, I'd appreciate this is kept quiet." He looked at them both solemnly and got positive indications that they would keep their silence.

"It was a smart match. The Potters wouldn't have taken any political hit for their heir marrying a muggleborn with Lily's pedigree. They were beloved for their historical role of taking a stance against evil by the Light sided families. The neutral, or Grey, families were already behind them for their acting against Grindelwald. What's more, being married to the sister of the Head of House Black meant the darker families wouldn't have dared to slander them for it." Patrice laid out the political landscape that Harry and Fleur may be more ignorant of.

"With the backing of the Potter family, Lily would have been able to get a good position in the Ministry, apprenticeships, start a business, teach, and even be backed for private research. She'd have had the whole world opened up for her where the prejudice against her heritage may have blocked many of those avenues, especially given the prominence of You-Know-Who at that time."

Slughorn had told him of the basics of this. It was good to hear confirmation that he'd done right by his mother, not that he doubted it in the least these days.

"Harry?" A new voice floated through their midst, drawing the attention of all three of them. Natalia had entered the antechamber.

"Please excuse me, I do need to speak with her and had promised the tour." He bowed out of the current conversation, a little relieved when the topic of marriage and marital contracts had been brought up.

He didn't need the conversation to turn to the merits of him marrying a Delacour, he'd talked with Slughorn about that already.

"Au revoir Harry, we'll see you shortly." Patrice said amicably and he released the privacy spells.

"And thanks again, for what you did for our family."

Natalia froze as she took in the three occupants after the privacy charms fell. Her eyes widened in surprise before she gained a guarded countenance. "There you are Harry, are we able to do the tour now?"

Harry had moved right towards her and had let the newcomer not intermingle with the Delacours. They'd moved to talk to each other away from the entrance, and Harry had been moving right towards her.

"Where did you want to start the tour?" Harry questioned after they exited the room.

"Outside? With warming charms it could be delightful." She said directing their path outside.

Harry raised his eyebrows and gave her a skeptical look. "Really?" He asked dryly.

Natalia shot him an annoyed look, not that Harry cared.

"Yes! To get away from everyone. I wanted to spend time together, not deal with a circus." She shook her head and then brightened up. "I hoped we could just spend time together, we don't get to see eachother everyday like we did when we were dancing together." She added a little shyly as they made it to the outdoors.

"A walk around the lake then?" It would give them time together and shouldn't be full of people on a school day.

She smiled softly at him, "Like our time together in the park? That sounds lovely."

Harry cast the warming charms on them both. Before he could slide his hands back into a pocket she grasped one, ensuring they held hands while they walked.

"You look nervous Harry. Is there something wrong?" Natalia queried.

"Other than the task tomorrow you mean?" He replied sardonically.

"Are you really worried about that though? I'll have a contract and I can't imagine the other hostages won't have the same, not after what you've done."

"I don't know, the task does bother me…" He ran his free hand up and down the back of his head and neck.

"I don't think that is it. There is something else I think. I doubt the danger of the task does much more than get your adrenaline going." She challenged his reply. "Your uneasiness is more alike to our time when there is something between us than anything external."

Harry frowned. "Am I that easy to read?"

He didn't like the idea of that at all.

Natalia laughed, "No, not at all. We've just had a rocky relationship after our easy start." Her nose wrinkled at the admission, her upper lip curling upward toward her nose.

"I guess so." He muttered.

"Are you going to tell me?" She asked impatiently.

"Fine." He said, not all that happy she'd pressed him on it. "I was hoping to tell you this at a better time, but why not now?"

She looked at him and he could see the worry in her eyes.

"I won't be accepting the courtship contract." He told her bluntly.

She stopped. "You know what my family will demand then?!" She almost shrieked at him, she was a little hysterical as her emotions flooded and overwhelmed her.

"I doubt they will demand you leave me alone. My advisor didn't think they would force you to stop spending time with me."

"Why ever not?" She rounded on him. "You heard what they said, you know what I told you! None of my siblings were allowed to date. They all courted! If you reject that then you are breaking up with me!" Tears were gathering in the corner of her eyes.

"No." He said forcefully gaining her full attention. "Your parents were trying to take advantage of my naivety. They hoped my infatuation with you would cloud my judgement and that they could push me into it. If they want the match, they are offering very little to gain a whole lot." Seeing the hurt he realized how she could have taken that and quickly qualified his statement so it wouldn't be seen as slighting her personally, that she was worth so little to him.

"The Potter family joining yours gives the credibility from one of their most outspoken critics for their role in the war against Grindelwald. They get a foothold into England, politically and economically, and their daughter could birth the Potter and Black Heirs. While the contract has very little political or economic benefits to either of my two families. You're not the heiress of the family and they offered very little in the contract. From just the business and political outlook they gain a lot and give virtually nothing. That's what I meant, not that you are not worth anything."

She was resigned to the course of action, her spirit was crushed. "I get it." She told him dejectedly.

Harry pulled a letter addressed to her family out of his pocket. "This is for your family. It's a letter of intention from me, regarding dating you." He held it out for her to take.

She grabbed it reverently, treating it like it was a lifeline for her. "You think they will accept? Your advisor too?" She asked with curiosity and hope.

Harry shrugged, "I was led to believe it should be agreeable to your family." He told her softly and pulled her in for a hug now that she'd secured the letter into her pocket.

When he felt her breathing return to normal he broke the hug.

"Why would they accept the arrangement?"

Harry smiled. "Because of your actions."

She gave him a questioning look, her eyebrows were trying to connect and her lips were pursed.

"Look, this is just what I was advised. You've been determinedly disinterested in all potential suitors and most of the matches your family could hope for would not be with heirs to a single prominent family, let alone two. I'm by far the best match they could hope for, in my advisor's opinion anyway, and people know we've spent quite a lot of time together. That you've been my date at an internationally covered tournament and the Delacour's Ball means they've gotten oodles of positive public perception from your association with me and that is worth the chance of us not working out."

Natalia had her brain engaged now that her emotions weren't so volatile. "With the potential payoff for my family they won't risk it, nor the negative feedback if you sought to tarnish our reputation by exposing the courting contract as an all or nothing pressure tactic to an orphaned hero that's only been back in the wizarding world for a few years."

She looked positively radiant now that she was understanding how Harry was painting them into a corner, assuming the letter laid out, or threatened, to use the leverage he now had.

"You're asking my father to let me date you?"

"Not exactly…" She'd gone from deliriously happy to a reaction that made Harry feel like he'd just kicked a puppy.

"I wanted him to grant approval for us to decide if we wanted to date or not." He told her quickly, successfully wiping that hurt look from her.

That was all the encouragement she needed to start kissing him. Her hands shot out to the sides of his chest, grabbed his clothes and pulled him in. She ran her hands up his body until they were running through his hair. She moaned and moved to deepen the kiss when Harry broke it off.

She looked at him questioningly. 'Did you not enjoy it' was the question left unsaid, but Harry knew she was wondering it.

"There's still more we need to go through." He did look regretful that he ended their kiss.

"What else?" She asked demurely.

Harry put his hand out again, inviting her to take it, and when she locked hands with him they returned to their walking.

"I'm not going to be dating anyone exclusively through the tournament. I hope to be able to spend time with you and as we wouldn't be exclusively dating I won't push, and will respect, for kissing or anything physical beyond hugging."

"Why? Is this because of Fleur and Daphne? Are you considering them, planning to spend time with them? "

Harry sighed and looked away, trying to find a good way to answer that.

"Daphne talked to you about me then?" Harry asked, wanting to know more before he fully committed to his plan.

Natalia nodded slowly and carefully added "She did."

"What did she say?"

Harry thought Natalia really didn't want to discuss it, but he could see when she relented from that stance. "She told me she's requested the outstanding marriage contract is amended to be to a Regent instead of the Head of the Black Family…"

"That is not all. Daphne doesn't give away that information without having some sort of followup." He said.

Harry hadn't spent a ton of time with Daphne since he'd settled things with Cyrus Greengrass. Nevertheless, he'd been getting to know her as an easy bridge between Cyrus and himself. She was in training to take over the role from her father, as she would eventually take over the position. She'd been helping to educate him on law and how it interacts with politics.

"No," She admitted, "it's not…" Her face showed the indecision she was feeling and she was squeezing his hand more than was normal, or comfortable for Harry. "She asked me about our future… how it would look." She said slowly, not pleased by the words leaving her mouth.

"That you are career driven and being a professional ballet dancer will be your life unless you take a break to have a family from now until you decide to retire?" Harry asked knowingly, a tiny bit of a teasing tone as well.

"Yes. Exactly that." She whispered.

"And knowing Daphne, she presented a solution to your issue?"

"She did…"

"And?"

Natalia slowed their pace, almost as if she was having trouble walking and talking at the same time, like she was diverting processing power away from walking so she'd slowed down. "I'm not sure what I think of it and I don't want to put the idea in your head… I'm not sure if I'd ever consider it."

"I probably already know." Harry assumed Daphne had tried to angle for Natalia to be supportive of her own idea. Namely, that Natalia could marry Harry and focus on her career, Daphne could complete the contract and find a way to end the curse on her family. Harry would get the heirs he needed, Natalia would have her career and Daphne could free her family. A win-win-win is what she would see it, and explain it.

"That we should both be with you?" She asked tentatively, not making eye contact.

"Yes," Harry sighed, "Daphne sees it as a way for all of us to get what we want."

"You want to be with two women and have a large family?"

Harry laughed.

"No. I told her I don't want to even _think_ about the idea of having more than one woman to keep happy, sounds like a bloody nightmare to me. Have you even tried thinking of how it would even sodding work?" He asked incredulously.

"No?" Natalia had almost nothing else on her mind since the idea was presented.

"Assuming neither of you are bisexual, and wouldn't magically become so over night, you'd probably not want to live in the same home. Imagine we were and I was going to spend the night in bed with the other girl. How would that make you feel? Would you want to stay there, silencing charms or not?"

Natalia shook her head vehemently.

"Yeah, so then two homes. When we have kids I'd have two families living in two homes, probably not close to each other, and I'd constantly be in the middle of that! That sounds like a great idea, eh? Sleep with two different women expect they are both, _somehow_, okay with it and, then, have two families simultaneously. Would there be a schedule setup? How would you decide who goes with me to what event? It's ridiculous, I've never even _heard_ of another family like that." Harry ranted as the words spilled out of his mouth.

Natalia smiled at him. "I've heard of it. It is _very_ rare now though and always kept quiet. Normally, there is kind of a main wife and family with further women being more like mistresses and children from the deliancees raised with limited contact with their father." She shuddered when she saw the look in Harry's green eyes.

"I know what it's like to not be raised by a father." He stated coldly. "No child of mine will be subjected to it if I can help it."

Natalia shivered, she recoiled from Harry. He was angry, mad, serious, and upset. It was her first experience seeing him like this.

Harry suddenly stopped and pulled Natalia back. They both stumbled back a couple steps before they regained their balance.

"What is it?" Natalia asked.

She was looking around and not seeing anything that would cause such a reaction.

"Wards." Was all he said.

Harry closed his eyes and focused on what he could tell of them. He could feel they were strong and powerful. They felt closed off and restrictive. There were other things that skirted his ability to recognize and even consider what it might be.

Harry moved closer again and reach out with his hand. He kept it back from touching the ward line but he wanted to feel as much of it as he could without touching it. He closed his eyes and let himself become immersed in the feel of it.

"Harry!" Natalia called out. "Someone is coming." She pulled him back and brought him back to focus on their surroundings.

Harry looked to where Natalia had subtly pointed and he noticed she was now gripping her wand.

The person approaching them had their wand out and it only took a second for Harry to recognize him.

"Bill?" He named the person and called out in greeting.

"Harry? What are you doing out here?" The eldest Weasley asked as he trotted up to them.

"Natalia and I were going for a walk. Oh, and Natalia, Bill, otherwise known as William Weasley and, Bill, let me Natalia Pavlova." He introduced them to each other.

"Charmed to meet you, Miss Pavlova." Bill said formally.

"Likewise, it's a pleasure to meet such a distinguished cursebreaker." Natalia said, surprising Bill.

"Have we been acquainted before?" Bill asked through his frown.

"No, my family stays abreast of anything or anyone considered worthy of knowing about. As I am here in Scotland, and knowing Harry was good friends with the Weasley family, I studied up on people and places."

"I see." Bill said, giving her a skeptical look. "And to my earlier question, what are you doing out here?"

"Going for a walk, to clear our heads and chat." Harry responded. "Why are there powerful wards here? For the task tomorrow?"

"Right in one. Gringotts got contracted by the DMLE to setup wards to ensure nobody could get through and mess with the task. It _was_ supposed to be low key, but with everything going on at the castle I doubt it will be much of a surprise what tomorrow's task is, yea?"

Harry scowled. "If it wasn't for Natalia here, none of us would have known we were rescuing someone. I'm sure between Director Bones and the parents of the suspected hostages there will be some sort of safety measure added for them. Natalia's family insisted on it."

Harry was still having a hard time not getting worked up over that.

"Right. Well, don't get too close to the wards. You'll get a nasty surprise if you do."

"Thanks Bill. We won't. They just run along the water, not the path around?" Harry queried as they began preparing to continue their walk.

"Yep. I'll see you around Harry." Bill said. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do on your _walk_!" Bill called out after they had waved and had already turned away.

He chuckled as he walked away.

Natalia check over her shoulder, ensuring no one else was around before she spoke, ending the silence. "Do you know him well?"

"Erm, not really. I've met him in person a couple times now but that's a recent thing. Though, I have exchanged a couple letters with him. He sent me some stuff on wards and detecting magic, pre-cursebreaker type stuff."

"Are you thinking of being a Cursebreaker?" She didn't need to ask what level of study he was at for it. She knew all wards were a NEWT level topic, if not beyond it.

"No, I just find it fascinating and think It's a good thing for me to know about." That was the truth, just not all of it. He'd been really keen on learning more about wards when he found out that his cloak ignored them.

The two descended into silence as they walked, holding hands once again. Harry was thinking about his plans for tonight. He'd always intended to totally bollocks up the second task. He'd researched heavily for anything that could disrupt the task.

Whomever put him in this tournament had been able to get close to the Goblet of Fire without anyone knowing. His enemy was around and, more than likely, had access to the tournament tasks. He disrupted the first one, removing the element of danger and causing such a scene the scrutiny would be too heavy to do anything overt to him.

With this second task he was worried that politics would rear its ugly head. The tournament committee still featured the same organizers that thought nesting mother dragons were suitable for students that hadn't completed their NEWTs. Even with a legitimate warding expert on hand it would protect against outside interference but not any insiders, where Harry suspected there was already an issue.

This led him to the decision that he couldn't let any of these tasks go forward as planned. He had the perfect potion for it. It was a potion of eternal darkness. When dispersed into a body of water the potion prevented all light from entering it and any from being used within it.

Harry had no idea what the actual purpose of it was. All he knew was that he'd read through book after book in the library trying to find something that might work. The potion was perfect. The only issue was inserting enough of it to make the lake as black as his name. With a life cycle of seventy-two hours it was perfect. There was no way they would be able to delay the task. Once it was mixed into the body of water there was no known way of removing it, he hoped that was reliable.

The ingredients were all simple and commonly used. Much of what was required could be found within the forest. Dobby had told Harry the elves harvest a number of them from the Forbidden Forest to reduce costs for the school.

He wasn't deterred by the wards. With his cloak it would be a done deal. He'd introduce it tonight, well into the night, and act unaware in the morning. There would be nothing pointing towards him. Harry felt bad for Bill. He'd get some flak when they had no explanation for why their wards failed to prevent the intrusion.

"So what are we now then Harry? You're asking for permission to be able to date me and you have at least two others pursuing you. Where do you stand? What do you want us to be? Is there even an us?"

Harry let the nervous and exasperated girl settle. He'd wanted to know what her and Daphne had talked about and now he knew.

Harry stopped their forward progression and turned her to look at him. He wasn't going to shy away with his answer. "I talked with my political advisor multiple times. It's not possible for me to say everything you'd need to know to understand why it has to be this way."

Natalia was trying to put on a brave face but her bottom lip was trembling.

"There are things going on behind the scene that take precedence. In the immediate future I won't be deciding on a final decision for my marriage prospects. With that being said, I do like you. I have really enjoyed our time together and you're the only girl I feel normal with. We can just be Harry and Natalia, the dolt and the brat. We can dance together, go for walks together and just spend time with each other. I like that. I miss that when we're apart for long periods of time… "

A smile was slowly forming on her face, her scrunched up eyebrows were relaxing and hope was blossoming on her face, he could see her relaxing.

He swallowed and then continued. "I've been advised to not be exclusive. To not discourage current and potential suitors. We are planning for the future but it's too soon. I imagine I'll introduce my advisor, and any more that I pickup, to your family and they can discuss it more."

He paused and let that soak in. His heart felt like it was clenching and shrinking a whole size. "I'd like to hangout with you still. It could be as friends or whatever else you want, but I won't push and I can't force you to want to be around me. I'd understand if you wanted to distance yourself now…"

Natalia's head had dropped, her chin resting on her chest. "So you will keep spending time with just Daphne and Fleur." She stated it, no questioning it at all.\

Fleur's name came out especially frosty, far worse than how almost normal she'd said Daphne's name.

"The Delacour's are a friend of the Potter family. Even if we were exclusive I'd spend time with her. She's the heiress. Daphne, well, with her Father being a Steward and the possibility of our future children marrying, if I don't accept their offer, make it likely I'll be in regular contact with her for the foreseeable future. There's not much I can do about that." He shrugged after saying the last part a bit apologetically.

"What if I wanted to date you? What if I wanted to keep kissing you and acting as if we are exclusive? That I pushed to win your heart, the other prospects be damned." She stepped into him. "What then, Harry?"

"I wouldn't stop you, that's for sure." He gave her his lopsided smile, the one she adored.

"Good. Because I like you and won't give you up that easily." She whispered as she closed the small gap between them and kissed him. He'd been upfront and honest with her. If she wanted to pursue him anyway, then he wasn't going to turn down a gorgeous older girl when she wanted to kiss him.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry was ready. He had his enchanted mask - one that allowed him to breathe underwater, aided his vision and let him speak normally - so now he wouldn't have to cast silently if he didn't wish to. He had gillyweed in his pocket and knew the bubble head charm. He had researched spells to assist him in moving through the water and so on. He was as ready as he was ever going to be.

At Slughorn's, and Cyrus', insistence he now wore dragonhide armor. It was an extremely lightweight version, as a heavy one would be terrible for swimming. He had another proper set in his bag, the one that also had emergency potions.

He made his way to the meeting place for the Second Task. He was wearing the cloak the Delacours had procured for him. He'd left his actual cloak in the Chamber, not wanting anyone to connect it with the potion he'd dumped into the Black Lake.

While he knew the book he had learned the potion from, actually learned thanks to parseltongue, that there may have been an advancement in magic that rendered it useless. When he'd checked the Hogwarts library for it he'd not found mention of it. Really, it wasn't a terribly useful potion.

Nevertheless, he was prepared. If he had to go down to the bottom of the Black Lake he'd have no problems finding Natalia given the Point Me spell. He knew whom everyone had for a hostage thanks to the ridiculous meeting yesterday.

By the time Harry got back from his walk with Natalia things had dissolved into chaos. The orderly meeting had been made moot by the actions of the Changs, Madame Bones and Patrice Delacour. Gabrielle would still be used, because she _really_ wanted to be involved. Natalia for him, Krum's absent mother for Viktor and Cho for Cedric.

The real change had been the tournament organizers had guaranteed their safety. Dumbledore' eye twinkling and reputation hadn't convinced any of them when they refused to name all the dangers for the task.

It was decided, unilaterally by Amelia Bones, that the tournament organizers had to back their guarantee with a magical contract - like the one Natalia was offered - or they'd be charged with kidnapping if they took any unwilling participants.

Harry wasn't a party to any of them and the actual terms had not been disclosed. He was informed that all participants were satisfied with the arrangements and the task would go forward. Harry had come back for the meeting only to discover it had already been settled. He'd tried to catch Patrice, or Fleur, to ask how it ended but he'd been told that they'd left the castle.

When Natalia had left to deliver the signed scroll back to her parents, and his letter, he'd retired to the chamber. He had potions to complete.

That all led up to this. As he arrived at the designated area he was still smirking because the lake was black. You couldn't see anything and a number of people were working on it. Harry saw Snape casting spells on a sample of the water. He couldn't keep himself from being smug, he knew of a potion the vaunted potion master didn't.

Harry took off his cloak just as he entered into the tent, he put on his best naive, unaware student look.

He saw the other champions were already there, though there were no signs of the hostages. As they were supposed to go into the water this morning, this worried Harry. It should have been then, if not sooner, that they'd discovered the issue with the lake.

"What's going on?" Harry asked the three champions.

"'Arry," Fleur greeted warmly, "The task, they aren't letting it go on. The lake is unswimmable."

"I saw that!" He said, wide-eyed. "What happened? I thought they upped security and had the whole Lake warded."

Fleur's eyes flashed at that but she quickly covered that up. Harry knew she might be asking him about this once they were in private somewhere.

"I think they are trying to change the task." Cedric said, the normally chipper young man was anything but that right now.

"Karkaroff said they had a back-up task ready. After the first one, they were worried of sabotage." Viktor informed him.

The way the other two didn't react Harry assumed that they must already be aware.

"How could we have prepared though? I've been planning for a swim in the lake!"

This wasn't good! He'd not considered that they might have expected another bout of sabotage, let alone prepared for it.

It was then that the leaders of the three schools, Bagman and Crouch came their way. They beckoned the champions to them.

"It has been decided that the task will go forward. Instead of collecting your hostage within an hour from the Black Lake you will have to retrieve them from the Forbidden Forest."

Harry's stomach sank. That was a _terrible_ change. Grindylows were really the worst creatures in the lake. The Forest though, there were legitimate worries there. Hagrid had insinuated there were other things, beside a Voldemort possessing Quirrell, that killed unicorns. That it hadn't been the first time.

Second year he'd met Aragog, and if they remember him and their unlikely escape…

This year he wasn't made aware of anything new in there, but he'd heard of more. He'd heard the centaurs were so aggressive because their settlements were constantly harassed. This wasn't good. Not at all!

"You will venture into the forest and have one hour to return hostage and then make your way back out of the forest." Dumbledore told them.

"When you get to your hostage you are to give them a portkey and they will return to this tent. As there is a lesser degree of difficulty, moving through a forest versus a lake, you will have to return as well. With the original task once you retrieved the designated person it was just a swim back."

They passed out four portkeys and were told if they used them for themselves, it would be an automatic failure.

The previous times he'd gone deep into the forest he'd met Voldemort and Aragog. Harry had a really bad feeling about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting to get here. The chapter seemed to kind of run away on me. I cut the scene of them all working out guarantees for everyone's safety. If you were hoping for it know I wrote it and didn't like it. Beside the note on it there really wasn't much point to the scene.
> 
> Thank user NeverGonnaStop for the beta work if you found it cleaner than normal, I appreciate the work!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and responding. I'm looking forward to the Second Task in next chapter!


	24. The Second Task

The Forbidden Forest was menacing. Harry hadn't really realized it before, he'd been too focused on what might be lurking and not the forest itself. There was something _off_ about it. His feet continually found twigs to snap, loudly proclaiming his presence. They constantly caught roots and he was no klutz. His sense of foreboding continued to grow the further he went in; It was ominous in here.

Fifteen minutes of stumbling his way deeper and deeper into the forest, without hearing, seeing, or facing any opposition, was fraying his nerves. Walking in as straight a line as possible, toward the direction of his hostage, and facing no resistance reeked of a trap.

Harry had entered the forest at the same time as the other champions. They'd all used the Point Me spell and had slowly broken off in different directions. He'd stuck with Viktor the longest and had just recently parted ways from him, as the directions of their hostages have diverged.

Harry continued his trek and used the same pattern: every thirty seconds he cast spells to detect creatures and humans. Both spells kept coming up negative, really worrying Harry. After facing a dragon in the first task this was too easy, _far_ too easy.

His greatest worry was Aragog and his brood. He'd met them once and hoped he'd _never_ have to again. When he'd raised the possibility of a acromantula lair being an unreasonable safety concern Dumbledore had turned his twinkling eyes onto him and told him Hagrid had already sorted the issue. Aragog had guaranteed they would not physically harm the hostages. There was nothing to worry about on that front.

Harry didn't believe it. Aragog had allowed he and Ron into his lair to answer questions because he was a friend of Hagrid. He'd tried to let his sons and daughters make a meal of them though, friend of Hagrid or not.

Harry snorted remembering that. He's entering an area that is forbidden and Dumbledore insists everything is fine and the dark creatures Harry knows will try and eat him are under control? No, this wasn't going to be like that, he knew it in his bones. If there was one thing he was thankful for, with the task now being in the forest, it was that there would more than likely not be another of the most deadly creatures known to the wizarding world in here.

He'd already faced a basilisk and a dragon, not that it put up much resistance, but he'd still been around five dragons at his time at Hogwarts. There were no Nundu's in this forest, Remus had told him there are no werewolves, it was just a rumor, and there isn't a chimera on the whole isle. As far as he knew he'd already come into contact with the worst this forest had to offer, acromantulas and centaurs, though centaurs weren't known for being aggressive outside their tribal lands.

Harry was broken out of his thoughts when he heard movement, something was approaching, fast. He took cover behind a tree, ensured his regular invisibility cloak was still in place and steadied his breathing. His heart was pounding in his chest. He could hear his blood pumping as it rushed through his ears. It made it hard to hear anything more than the rythmic thumping. Looking for whatever was headed his way, he craned his neck around the tree trunk.

Though he could scarcely hear more than his own heartbeat Harry could make out the pattern, it was the sound of trotting. A centaur? Were there other hideous hoofed beasts he should be wary of? He couldn't think of any on demand.

The beating of hooves grew and grew. It wasn't just a single one, there were at least two sets, if not more. Harry waited and watched. Not until he could see that they were indeed centaurs did he step out and remove his cloak. Foolhardy, perhaps, but the last one he'd seen had saved him from Voldemort. He'd be cautious but what if they were here for something similar? The only thing he'd been told about them was to not trespass or disparage them to their face. Otherwise, they liked to stay out of wizarding affairs.

Both of the centaurs came to an abrupt stop and reared back at his surprising and sudden appearance.

"We meet again, Harry Potter." The vaguely familiar one said after having all four hooves on the ground again, he was ten feet away, or so.

Harry dipped his head in acknowledgement, "Were you the one I met three years ago?"

The centaur that had spoken to him moved closer to him, so they were six feet apart, Harry had to crane his neck upward to look him in the eye. "I am Firenze, yes." His deep rumbling voice carried out.

"Thanks again, for the save, a few years ago." Harry tentatively offered, he was nervous and hoping they weren't unfriendlies for the task. The standoffish centaur was holding his bow and his other hand was near to nocking an arrow, making Harry worry more than he had when he'd first seen them.

"Mars is exceptionally bright tonight," Firenze started out gravely, "the heavens are wary, stars are shifting. We centaurs will herald their words, to you, child of prophecy."

The words unsettled Harry, he was already wary and kept his eye on the less than friendly centaur while he responded. "Child or prophecy? Herald, whose herald?" He wanted to understand why they called him that and what they were

"Stop and listen, _foal_." The second centaur scolded, speaking for the first time. "We herald what is required of our race; be forewarned, listen, or do not." He reared, stomped his front hooves on the ground and then did a quick tight circle. He was clearly irritated; the centaur backed away and awaited Firenze, his hands were never strayed far from his weapons.

Firenze stalked forward, making vigorous eye contact with Harry.

"Listen, O wizard! Give ear, Son of Potter!

We discern the mysteries of magic;

We unravel the signs in the stars.

The Heavens speak, heed our words!

Battle approaches, blood will spill;

Red will stain the leaves this eve!

Prepare yourself, harden your heart;

The path is narrow, you must not tarry!

Your crucible comes, salvage salvation!

Listen, O wizard! Give ear, Son of Black!

Narrow is the path, your crucible comes;

Salvage salvation, Son of Peverell!"

Harry was stupefied and doing a fantastic goldfish impression. Somehow, beyond his shock, a small part of him recognizing he should remember these words and was trying to do so.

This was the last thing he'd expected when he entered the forest, hearing a centaur herald some kind of warning.

The unnamed centaur reared again and suddenly trotted away, stopping at the top of the high ground, nearly at the out of Harry's depth of vision.

Firenze moved another foot forward. "Prepare yourself, be wary, do not tarry. Heed the words from the heavens." He closed the remaining gap between them and gripped Harry's chin with his forefinger and thumb. "Farewell, Harry Potter, we shall not meet again." With his peace said he released Harry, turned around and followed after his companion.

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His legs gave out and he watched Firenze join his kin, the two galloped away. They'd not given him a chance to bade them farewell, let alone ask any kind of question.

What in Merlin's name was that! Battle approaches? Blood will be spilled tonight?

How was he supposed to deal with this? Why had they warned him? What were they calling him? How did they even know where he was? Harry snorted, he knew what the answer would be. They followed the path the stars told them or some hogwash like that.

He hated divination! If Harry needed another reason for it, this instance would be another reason for abhorring the imprecise art. This wasn't the time to deal with riddles. He'd take the warning and be ready.

Harry might not know what the whole riddle meant but he did know one thing. He wasn't going to be spilling his own damned blood tonight. He'd paint the whole damned forest red before he allowed himself to die for a damned tournament, one the spectators could even watch!

Harry growled and cast his detection spells. Nobody was around him. He slipped the cloak back on and tried to quietly creep through the forest, towards his destination.

The minutes slipped by, Harry pressed ever onwards, still finding nothing. Every step was harder than the last. He felt like he was marching to his doom, slowly, step by step.

His sense of time had long forsaken him. If it wasn't for his spell he'd have thought he'd been going in circles, everything seemed to blur in his memory and look the same. Regardless, he trudged on.

The forest wasn't all that silent anymore; his ears had adjusted and were picking up faint sounds he'd missed before. He'd hear a branch here, the rustle of a leaf there, and the sound of animals in the trees overhead. He wasn't picking up any humans and no animals with hostile intent; he'd thought that spell more prudent than trying to distinguish looking for wildlife of any kind, but now, he thought it was a mistake.

Harry now understood there was a drawback on this spell, a significant one. He hadn't considered a trap type scenario in his plans. The spell was identifying the _current_ intent of the creatures around him. Theoretically, he thought he could sleep next to a chimera and as long as it stayed asleep it couldn't _actively_ mean him any harm. The spell didn't mean he was safe, just that there were no actively threatening creatures around him the _exact_ moment the spell was cast.

This was leaving Harry with the distinct impression that whatever was waiting for him meant no harm _now_, at this static point in time. Not a great thing to realize when in the midst of a perilous task where unfriendly parties have orchestrated your involvement. He still had mixed feelings about changing the task. There could be far worse creatures brought into the lake. Kappas Grindylows, and Kelpies. Harry had feared the fact he didn't know how to swim would become a large issue, not to mention breathing underwater was always a temporary thing.

Harry pushed it all aside, within his mind. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about things. Now was the time to stay focused.

He continued in the same direction. Mentally he was sharp and prepared. He'd listen to the warning and harden his heart. No quarter would be given, threats would be put down, his life was on the line and he'd not be throwing stunners at anything that meant him harm. If bloodshed was coming he'd bloody well make sure it wasn't his.

Harry cast his spells again, no creatures with hostile intent. He cast the next and was surprised when it detecting another human soul within its range.

Harry pulled his cloak tighter and waited, the person was coming from his right and moving toward the direction Natalia was in. He waited with baited breath. He could see their silhouette, and he strained to see who it was.

The person stopped moving and cast a spell, the same one he'd used to find out their presence. This cloak wouldn't conceal it from it. He thought he recognized who it was and prepared to step out from under his cloak.

"Fleur?" Harry asked, not removing his cloak yet.

"'Arry?" She called out, her head looking toward the general area he'd been detected in.

He stepped out now, revealing himself to her.

"I'm so glad to see you." She said quickly making her way to him, wrapping him up in a quick embrace.

"Me too, Fleur, me too." He let out a deep breath.

"My 'ostage is moving. I thought I was close then the direction changed." She let him know. Although the hostages were supposedly safe Harry could hear the inkling of fear that exposed her worry for her little sister.

The direction Natalia was in hadn't changed since he'd stepped foot in the forest. Gabrielle moving around didn't inspire any form of confidence, it made his feelings of trepidation worsen.

"Where is she now? Which direction?" He watched her cast the spell and he immediately noticed her wand was pointed in the exact same direction of Natalia.

"_Point Me Natalia"_ Harry said and noted how their two wands pointed in the same direction.

"They are… together?" She questioned.

Harry nodded and he noticed her clothes weren't pristine any more, he'd missed that when she first came and hugged him.

"Are you okay? Did you have troubles in here?" He pointed at the dirty spot on the side of her right hip.

"Oui, I'm okay. I was knocked down but didn't see what did it." She looked a little shaken in the retelling.

"You were knocked over by a creature and it didn't attack you?"

"Oui."

If that wasn't a sign of ominous things to come he'd eat his own foot. Being knocked over by a creature and not being attacked during a task? in a deadly tournament? That wasn't possible. What kind of creature is large enough to knock over a human after sneaking up on an alert witch? Harry's thought connected his lack of success with finding creatures that were intent on harming him and this occurrence, it painted a poor picture for his immediate future.

"What about you?" Fleur asked after roving her eyes up and down looking to see if he was alright.

"I only ran into a couple centaurs; I've not seen anything else, nothing since Viktor and I parted ways." Harry informed her.

She tilted her head and frowned. "Centaurs? Did they speak to you?"

"Yeah."

"Do you... know them?" She asked, she was keenly interested in the topic Harry noticed.

"One of them had saved me in my first year here." Harry stated, given his time in the magical world he had no idea if this was a normal thing or not. He doubted being fourteen and having faced a basilisk and a dragon was normal. Knowing his luck, meeting centaurs was abnormal.

"He saved you?" She shook her head and her non-wand hand came up and touched her forehead.

"'Arry, Centaurs don't save humans." She told him bluntly.

Harry shrugged, "He did and he warned me this time, though he did tell me we won't meet each other again, that part seemed kind of odd..."

"A warning? A warning for what?" She earnestly demanded to know.

"For the task, and more, I think?" He'd tried to focus on the task, and impending danger, not the words of the centaur.

"You think?" Her voice rose as she asked. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.

"What did they say about the task?" She grabbed his shoulders with her hands, her wand tucked away. "Centaurs don't speak to wizards 'Arry. When they do, it is _always _important." Her posture was frantic as she questioned him.

"What did they say?" Her voice was chilled, a mixture of apprehension and worry.

Harry understood the warning was probably something he should tell her, even if he didn't want to impart the whole thing to her, and if it came true… He decided to give her the parts relevant to today and decide on the rest later.

A battle approaches and blood will stain the leaves tonight." He delivered it rather dully, almost toneless, trying to not allow it to unsettle him.

Fury flashed in her eyes. "Blood?!" He could worry rise up in her irises, her body tensing involuntarily. That was, until it gave way, gave way to an inner fire.

"It will not be ours, nor our 'ostages!" She declared with fierce determination.

Fleur cast the spell, reminding herself of the direction of their hostages. "Centaurs do not lie; there will be blood and small cuts don't stain leaves." She locked eyes with him and stared off into the direction of their retrieval targets. "Let's stick together and protect one another."

Harry packed the invisibility cloak away, the one he'd already taken off. He wasn't going to let Fleur be the only visible target. He nodded at her and they two started walking deeper into the forest.

"I'm glad you're with me;" Fleur whispered, "we won't fail together." There was a quiet confidence to her words, a determination to see this through, to watch each other's backs.

Harry didn't respond, he didn't think there was a reason to. She'd be able to tell from his intensity.

"Do you know a better spell than the one I am using to sense hostile beasts? It's not picking anything up and I'm worried we are walking into a trap…" Harry knew she was more than intelligent enough to understand what he was saying.

"Non, I've used the same. Unless you know what you are on the lookout for it is very difficult. The general animal detection is not reliable, it picks up all forms of life." She whispered back at him.

Fleur cast another human detection spells and Harry did the same with the spell he thought was useless for their circumstances. Both were negative and so they kept moving.

It wasn't more than a minute or two before they caught sight of two others moving together, toward the same general direction as them.

Harry had a sinking feeling about this. "Cedric, Viktor?" He called out, knowing it just had to be the two of them. With Fleur's hostage being moved, and neither of them facing opposition, this just reeked of a setup.

"Harry?" Cedric called back.

Harry relaxed a little when he was found to be correct. Both parties moved toward each other.

"Fleur too? You guys working together?" Cedric asked curiously, not in an accusatory manner.

"Not on purpose, we ran into each other, our targets are in the same direction. What about you two?"

"No, I just ran into Viktor for the same reason. I've been moving all around the forest trying to track Cho, she's been moving, Viktor's mom too." He supplied the last part to bring them up to speed on what the two older boys knew.

"This is worrisome." Fleur said quietly, though her voice carried more than she would have liked, all of theirs were though.

"Task has been too easy. Nothing to fight." Viktor agreed with Fleur, scowling.

"A centaur warned Harry… Warned him that there will be a bloody battle." Fleur told the other two.

Viktor's head snapped up and he looked at Harry. "A warning from a centaur?!"

Harry nodded. The silence between the champions said it all.

"And now our hostages are all together?" Cedric asked. He cast the Point Me spell, Viktor, Fleur and Harry all cast the tracking spell wordlessly. All four wands pointed in the same direction.

"Forget tournament. Saving family more important than glory." Krum spoke up, clearly upset at the turn of events. None of the champions disagreed with the sentiment.

Cedric shook his head, "This isn't good, so what's the plan?" Cedric said after they all concluded their targets were together.

Harry looked around and noticed a vague familiarity to the area. There were worrisome creatures in the forest but none were more on his mind than the giant spiders he had encountered before. Now, when he looked around, he remembered a huge webbed dome over head and didn't see it.

He didn't know the Forbidden Forest well enough to say where he was for sure, and he didn't have a trail of spiders to follow on the ground either. But, he felt he was within the general vicinity of the encounter with Aragog and his descendants. What he wouldn't give to see that Ford Angelina right now.

"Acromantula." Harry interrupted the planning discussion that he hadn't been paying attention to. "I think they are behind this. We have a history… maybe a bone to pick too."

"What does this mean, 'a bone to pick'?" Fleur asked, though Harry could see the same question was on Viktor's lips.

"Something to resolve between two parties." Cedric said, saving Harry from having to explain. "I don't know why Harry would have unresolved issues with acromantula though…" He left his response hanging as an invitation for Harry to explain.

Harry groaned, he didn't want to be going on about his adventures while in the midst of a task. "Back in second year, when the petrifications had gone on, Hagrid got arrested and he told me to 'follow the spiders'." He shook his head, important knowledge had been attained in the venture but how naive was his big friend to think they'd be allowed to walk away after deliberately entering into an acromantula colony's lair.

"Spiders don't petrify." Fleur interejcted tartly, before Harry could continue.

"Yes, thanks, I know." Harry said and shot her a look of exasperation. Bickering wouldn't help so he just kept on telling an incredibly abridged version of events.

"Hagrid had been _wrongly _expelled fifty years prior for having opened the Chamber of Secrets. Fudge had him thrown into Azkaban, so they could be seen "doing something" and Hagrid gave Ron and I that clue to follow. So, being brainless Gryffindors, we followed a trail of small spiders, that were fleeing the castle, into the heart of the Forbidden Forest." Now that he was explaining this again it sounded even more idiotic.

"We met the 'monster' that Hagrid had freed, after the girl had been killed, the reason he was expelled. It turned out to be an acromantula… And after the giant spider gave us the necessary clues we escaped as his sons and daughters tried to devour us."

"What was the actual monster, the one that petrifies?" Fleur wanted to know.

"Later, it's not relevant now." Harry figured telling them it was a basilisk would delay them from what was important, the hostages safety.

"So you fought off an acromantula? There's four of us, we can take it." Cedric asked confused by what the issue could be, an acromantula would be a fearsome creature to a second year but not to the talented individuals representing their schools.

"No Cedric, we were saved by an enchanted car. There were dozens attacking us, maybe hundreds. We shouldn't have survived." Harry corrected.

"If they've put all our hostages together then we can be sure they are laying a trap for us." The idea immediately sobered them all.

"But the organizers signed contracts that they will not come to permanent harm. They wouldn't risk their magic by putting them at risk." Cedric pointed out, he looked unsure that this could be leading to a bloody battle.

"Nobody harms mother. We will kill them all." Krum growled, he didn't have the same faith in the organizers that Cedric did.

Harry shrugged, Krum's plan was fine with him. "My experience has been a bloody mess at this school, I have no confidence that this isn't life threatening, at the very least. If the hostages have been taken into the acromantula lair then they probably know they can't hurt them; but, they can, and will, try and stop us from getting to them and escaping afterwards." He thought he had a pretty realistic take, he knew Aragog wouldn't stop his fellow spiders from trying to make a meal of the champions.

"Their nest is a terrible place to go. They descend from above, attack from all sides and there's not any naturally defensible position." Harry told them, doing his best to recall anything he could from his last time there.

"So what's the play then? Barge in portkey the hostages to safety and make a run for it?" Cedric asked, looking around at the other three.

"We don't need to fight them. Just portkey our hostages and escape." Fleur pointed out astutely.

"Right," Harry said, agreeing with Fleur, "get them out and dash away."

They all kind of looked around, none of them sure on what to do.

"What if I go in and distract them? I'll be the bait. They know me, probably hate me too. I'm a known friend of Hagrid's so they will probably hear me out before trying to eat me." Harry said, not pleased with the plan, as it had him most at risk, but not seeing any other options.

"No!" Cedric and Fleur both said.

Harry gave them a withering look. "Do you have a better idea? I'm the distraction, and while they are focused on me, you three will get the four hostages out and keep a path clear for us to escape from."

Fleur looked like she wanted to murder him with her glare. Cedric looked like he was sucking on a lemon, the plan not to his taste. Krum was the one who actually agreed. "Da, send the 4th year and keep firepower in support, good tactics."

"Fine." Fleur grit out. "'Arry will be bait who goes for the hostages and who is in support?"

"I'll go for the hostages." Cedric volunteered, a steely glint to his visage.

Harry withdrew the cloak out of his bag. "Here," he threw it at Cedric, "take this."

Cedric grabbed it. "This'll help." He grinned as he put it on, testing its effect. Harry was amused he did the same thing he had done in first year. He'd slipped it around his body and now had just a floating head, "Wicked!" He exclaimed when he could not see his own body.

"Good, we go now." Viktor had had enough of waiting.

Harry kept to the front, Fleur beside him, and Cedric and Viktor following after them. The pair of them kept casting their spells, waiting for it to indicate they were close to their hostages.

It didn't seem to take long as all four now stood aloft a small hill. They'd all stopped when they saw the enormous dome of spider webbing, an obvious entrance dead ahead. Their spells indicated they were straight shot through the entrance.

Harry mentally prepared himself. He had his dragonhide armor on but knew it wouldn't be enough if he was captured or overwhelmed. He exchanged nods with Krum and Diggory and took a half step forward.

Fleur gripped his arm and pulled, Harry let the momentum. "Be careful. Don't do anything stupide. Failing the task is better than losing your life." She held him with both her hands on his shoulders and stared at him earnestly, willing her words to sink in.

"I'll be careful. You stay safe." He whispered back after she had pulled him in for a hug.

Harry took a deep breath and then steeled his nerves. He was about to walk into a lair of oversized arachnids. He'd sworn he'd never come back here if he could help it, after his last encounter here, and now he was volunteering to be spider bait.

With his wand in one hand, he began to descend the small hill, and make his way through the opening in the large webbed dome. He peered up and could see hundreds of individual webs that, together, made it feel like there was a series of interconnected webs and not just a hodge podge collection of thousands of webs. There would be no way out by climbing the trees.

He couldn't see the spiders but he could sense movement around him. In the corner of his eye he'd spot a flitter of movement here and there. If his eyes tried to track it There would be nothing for him to see, no sign of movement or life. He'd not officially seen a spider but his mind knew they were moving around him.

He descended into the clearing and knew he'd see the old spider, Aragog.

"Friend of Hagrid." Harry heard a wheezed voice call out slowly. "You have come again." Harry could hear the motion of the spider. Slowly, one leg after another, the gigantic spider pulled itself up out of the hole, so he could be face to face with Harry.

"Where are the hostages? I was told you'd promised not to harm them." Harry called out in a braver voice than he actually felt. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up.

"Yes." The ancient spider drawled. "Don't harm the sleepers… protect them from the other creatures in the forest…. That is what we agreed to." The old spider seemed to struggle to say too much, his breathing was deep and labored. "We've protected them; we didn't agree to not move them." Aragog lifted one of his front legs and extended it.

Harry's vision followed the direction Aragog indicated and he gasped at what he saw. Four sacs were hung, presumably with a person inside of each sac. If they were there, they were hung from an impossible height, held ten feet off the ground and fully cocooned in a spider's webbing. He tried to follow the strand of webbing that kept them in the air but couldn't keep it in sight, it blended into the dome webbing and it may be connected to the very top of the tallest portion.

This was not good. How could Cedric sneak in and portkey them out? He couldn't even reach them from the ground.

A trap indeed Harry mused, a good one at that.

The four sacs were out in the open and if one of them dropped, or disappeared, the game would be up. There was no way for them to miss any of the hostages being saved.

"You know I killed your ancient foe…." Harry let his statement hang out there, hoping it would help him in this circumstance.

"Do not speak of our unspeakable enemy!" The spider snarled at him.

"Is it not worth compensation? I removed the threat and freed Hagrid, our mutual friend?" Harry kept his voice calm, and amused, while he tried to keep from trembling in his boots.

"And it has!" Aragog wheezed out. "You are here, alive." A malicious glint entered his eyes, "Your companions too." He added in a smug voice.

Harry whipped his head around and saw Fleur and Viktor move into the entrance, wands drawn and ready for action. Whether they'd made their presence known or whether the spiders were already aware he didn't know. He hoped Cedric was undiscovered still.

"Okay, we'll take our hostages and leave you in peace." Harry almost snorted, he remember _exactly_ how well sentiment went last time.

"I think not! Our terms were to not kill them, not to let you escape once again." Harry didn't think it was possible for spiders to sneer at him but the lack of facial muscles didn't deter the spider from making him hear it in the tone. The spider probably hated him as much as Snape did.

"The hostages will be set free?" Harry asked quickly. "You promised they would not be harmed."

Aragog clicked his pincers together furiously. "Hagrid can fetch them. We would not harm them directly is all we agreed to." The wretched creature leered.

"That's not something I can abide by." Harry told him flatly. He twirled his wand in his fingers. "And you won't find such easy prey here, I'm not the boy I was." Harry could feel the pickup in his heart rate, he could feel the yearning of his magic for release. He didn't do his morning workouts today, in anticipation of this task.

He sported a grim smile. He could see spiders crawling out from their hiding spots, none yet making movements to attack them.

"You think we haven't prepared for you?" Aragog almost laughed at him. "Your vessel of salvation is no more."

Harry heard a sickening crack and looked to where he heard the noise. Something large was falling into the entrance he'd come in from. Horror dawned on him, it was the Ford Angelica, broken, battered, a ruin.

Fleur and Viktor dashed forward and just managed to avoid the crashing of the car and tree branches that fell with it. Spiders descended on top of it, protecting, and blocking, the exit he'd been counting on.

Pushed into the clearing, Fleur and Viktor got up and made their way toward the hostages. They were the first priority to get out. Cedirc had all four portkeys but there was no sign of him yet.

Harry turned his attention back to Aragog as the spider began to wheeze out his final taunt. "All that will be left of you is the blood stained leaves; my sons and daughters will feast on your flesh!" Harry imagined at this point there would have been some mad cackling but the spider could do no more than racking cough, age was catching up with him.

The likening to Firenze earlier warning smacked him in the face. This was the battle, the champions against a horde of Acromantula, right in the midst of their colonies home.

Harry had known it was going to come to this. Aragog wouldn't let them leave and they risked being overwhelmed in an ambush. He hadn't planned out his next action. He'd thought they could get the hostages out while he distracted the acromantula. Instead, their plan had been thwarted from the beginning.

In this moment his self preservation instincts were overridden by his desire to ensure the safety of his friends. Harry closed his eyes, keeping them shut slightly longer than a slow blink. He inhaled through his mouth and deeply exhaled out his nose. He brought his arm up in front of him, a slight bend at the elbow, his wand already in hand, protruded in front of his body.

All of his practice at range and here was the first opportunity for it to pay dividends. He wasn't close to Aragog, forty paces, or so, between them. He was so familiar with silent casting the spell the thought of enunciating the spell didn't even cross his mind. With careful aim, Harry released his magic, a piercing hex streaking out of his wand.

It felt like the world had stopped, that all eyes were on drilling bolt of magic racing toward the gigantic leader of the colony. The spell raced across the distance, perfectly placed. It tore through Aragog's face, eight eyes becoming four.

Harry knew the result of this action, anything holding back the spiders would disappear with the gruesome death of their leader. Any semblance of order and plan of attack would disintegrate. Hate and anger would win over and the colony would go berserk. Aragog was a king, he ruled the colony and they heeded his words. Now he was dead, taken down by a preemptive strike from a teenage wizard.

The forest around them shook with despair. Spiders left their perches, their webs, and raced to dismember the scum that had just slaughtered their leader.

It was in the midst of all this chaos that Cedric struck. "_Diffindo!" _Harry heard him call out and he watched as the spell leapt from Diggory's wand severing the webbing holding the four up in one go.

All four dropped, quickly.

Harry was worried they could be upside down and the fall would break their necks on impact. He hadn't needed to fret. Another spell had already left Cedric's wand and all four were cushioned as they hit dropped to the forest floor. The second they touched the ground, they vanished.

"Brilliant" Harry whispered. Cedric had set them all to fall onto the portkey, ensuring they were whisked away from trouble.

They now had a sole priority. Stay alive. Escape by any means possible.

The dam had burst, spiders rushed the four champions. From the front, the back, from both sides and even from above them! Harry could see an endless wave coming at them, dozens from each direction.

"So it begins." He muttered to himself as he raced to where the other three were congregated. Spells were already leaving the wands of Viktor, Fleur and Cedric.

Harry saw Cedric was transfiguring debris, into dogs and small mammals, to engage and fend off the incoming horde.

Fleur was lighting the ground on fire, trying to limit their avenues of attack.

Viktor took to looking out for attacks from above them, firing spells up over his head.

Harry called out to Cedric. "Your transfigurations won't last unless they are unbreakable, and even then, they can't take on much more than a single spider! Transfigure the ground! Spikes, lances, pits! Whatever you can to keep them from getting to us!" He could see Cedric's first labrador dog wasn't going to stand up to spiders that grow over ten feet.

"Fleur, light up the webs! Block their paths, remove their mobility!" He shouted at her and cast an _incendio_ at a wall of webbing, he made the effect of his spell as large as possible. The webbing caught on fire but more melted than burned brightly.

Harry whirled in a circle and saw they had less than twelve feet to the nearest spider, from that direction. He began firing piercing hex after piercing hex. His wand was a blur, his spells blowing holes in the spiders, and he fought with deadly accuracy.

He had considered other spells but he needed lethal spells, he knew how reliable the piercing hex was and he wasn't about to test how others worked against the acromantulas. The piercing hex was designed to blast holes in enemies, there was a reason Salazar had him using it, it was quick to cast and took put down enemies.

Seeing his immediate front clear he glanced around. Fleur was in her element, Harry didn't know the exact spells she was casting but they were all fire spells of some sort. She kept steady fire, much of the ground was alight, whole sections impassable to the spiders, webbing and trees were on fire. With Cedric using transfigured spears, pits and spiked barriers bodies were piling up. Fleur lit the corpses on fire that Cedirc and the other boys were creating.

Viktor had his head skyward and he was standing in the middle of the four of them, Cedric and Fleur to his right, Harry to his left. Harry turned his attention back to the front of him. Cedric and Fleur were doing an admirable job with creating a defensive stand behind he and Viktor. A wall of pikes were sticking out of the ground and he had been blasting large gouges in the earth when he'd last looked.

Harry kept up his spells, hex after hex making quick work of his enemies. He was casting as fast as he could and each hex with as large of a circumference as possible, the larger the hole blasted through them the greater the chance they died in one spell. Five inch holes were being bored right through their bodies. Torn off limbs, arachnid innards, and blown off bits were showering everything in sight. Debris was falling from the sky as Viktor was blasting apart any that tried to descend on them.

Harry was almost laughing at this! A smile was on his face as he kept up his pace, sweat now beading across his skin. This was just like target practice, only more challenging.

The champions fought on valiantly, their defense a brilliant showing for their respective schools.

"Help!" Cedric called out, drawing Harry's attention.

Harry took a quick look over his shoulder, Fleur shifted her spell fire to assist more directly. Harry didn't have the time to assist. They were covering his back and he was covering theirs.

The four had fallen into a natural rhythm, each had their quadrant to deal with. Viktor was still furiously working to defend the air above them; Harry had a full one hundred and eighty degrees to defend. His head was on a swivel categorizing which spiders were the priority threat and simultaneously blurring his wand to accurately rain death and destruction upon them. Cedric providing a bulwark and Fleur removing lanes of attack so Cedric's static fortifications were most effective.

Hex after hex shot out of Harry's wand, scarce were any misses. He could feel the fatigue starting, though he wasn't spent by any means. He could feel he'd been burning though magic far faster than his normal practice sessions and his body was letting him know.

The ground was slick, guts and gore were plastered everywhere. An acerbic stench was in the air, burnt hair mixing with smoke. He could taste the air, the coppery taste of blood mixed with dirt, smoke and ash.

Harry chanced a look around and saw what he'd hoped he wouldn't. As quickly as they were killing them, their foes came ever faster. The fifteen foot perimeter, that they had established, was shrinking. He could hear his compatriots grunting from exertion. Their spells no longer silent, French and Bulgarian joined Cedric's English cries as they cast spells as best as they could.

At least two dozen bodies were piled up and the spiders were now crawling over their own fallen. The dead provided defenses and screens to shield their movements from the defenders. Five broke over at once, all less than fifteen feet away, all five spread out. Harry hit the first one as it climbed up, four eyes of its eight eyes simply gone. A hole gouged through its body, not that Harry had time to admire his handiwork.

The second fully made it over the wall and had it's front two legs on the ground when a piercing hex tore through its abdomen. Harry whirled his wand on the third, another piercing hex flying out of his wand, the spell clipping a couple of its legs but not putting a large whole through its body. A second spell shout out and felled the creature.

The next one was sprinting towards an unsuspecting Krum. Harry's spell connected on target and the spider dropped to the ground, unmoving, blood pouring out it's body and two legs falling away, detached from the deceased arachnid.

The final spider was less than six feet away when Harry levelled his wand, a single spell brought its demise, the force of his spell, at such close range, cut it in half. Blood flew out of the cleaved arachnid spewing all over his face. Harry's free hand wiped at it but the hot sticky fluid burned his eyes.

Harry's vision blurred and he kept firing at anything he thought that was moving. He began lighting the dead bodies on fire, hoping it would prevent their brethren from climbing over them.

Harry hadn't noticed the five earlier spiders, attacking in concert, were actually six. The spider he'd not tracked caught him with a pincer to his unsuspecting back. His armor held, not allowing his body to be pierced. The force of the blow, however, threw him forward, he landed on his stomach, his arms not quick enough to brace him.

Harry spat our dirt as he rolled over. His free hand trying to clear his vision and his wand arm pointed at where he'd been hit. He fired blindly, knowing the spider would be moving in for the kill. He didn't need to see the results of his spell, he heard the squelching caused by his spell's impact upon spider.

Harry coughed, his back and chest _hurt_. Ignoring the protests of his body he shot up back to his feet. Partial vision had been restored, most of the muck had been wiped away from his eyes. Harry looked at the spider, as he fought to regain his earlier equilibrium. There were only two spiders advancing quickly on him, he swiftly dispatched them. Knowing full well that this wasn't the end he looked around for the next threat, at least ten spiders were using a line of web to drop right onto them!

Four were in his quadrant, his spells raced to meet them. Each one was blasted away in turn, gore, bits and fluids falling from them.

Harry killed three more as they tried to stalk around the already fallen spiders. He spared another glance behind him and immediately brought his wand around. Fleur and Cedric were being overrun. Debris and bodies had dropped from above, crushing the line of pikes that Cedric had blockading part of the clearing. The fire filled pits were filling up, smothering the flames, and larger numbers were coming at the two than were attacking Harry's side.

Despair overtook him. He didn't need experience to tell him what he'd already worked out. Even with as many as they were killing, they couldn't keep up this pace forever. If they didn't get out of here they'd die in short order. As soon as one of them fell their defense would collapse.

Harry kept up his punishing of any foes who dared to come at him while his mind worked furiously.

They needed a break. They needed a bulldozer to break through the fallen and force their way out of the dome. Smoke was filling the clearing and limiting their visibility. As soon as they lost their ability to destroy their enemies at range they would be done.

Seconds felt like minutes. Each spell that raced from his wand wasn't fast enough, each kill was closer, the perimeter was drawing in on them.

He kept up his pace and could feel the toll it was taking on his body. His arms ached, his legs burned, and his lungs protested breathing in this environment. Nevertheless, he danced around ever in motion, his wrathful wand waylaying at his will.

"Лайна!" The Durmstrang champion called out far louder than any spell he had cast, catching Harry's attention. Harry looked at him, he was shading toward Fleur, and Harry could see why. Multiple bodies were falling above her, none alive from what he could tell. He abandoned his front and shot his strongest banishing charm at them, mirroring Krum's own actions.

Their spells connected, Fleur and Cedric unaware at how close a call they'd come to losing one of their own. Harry didn't have time to assist further as he took another heavy blow to his back.

Harry flew forward and crashed into the ground. His mouth filling with a horrible mixture of dirt, blood, leaves and guts. He grunted and turned over, his wand thankfully still in his hand. He had a spell on his lips as he rolled over. A spider's had smashed him in the middle of his back and had it not been for his armor he'd probably be dead, a second time now.

He cast the trusty piercing hex and it connected, removing the immediate threat to his life.

Harry's eyes scanned his quadrant, his indomitable will not allowing his body to fail him now. While he deafened himself to the screams of protests from his hip, back, shoulders, arms, and abdomen, he stood again and pressed on, fulfilling the role he needed to, keeping himself alive and his friends from being blindsided.

His body could barely keep up to his mind's demands. His movements were sluggish, his body in agony. He felt this was the end. If any of the others needed help he was no longer in any condition to assist. He knew they'd do their best, that they'd give it their all.

It wouldn't be enough.

A female scream tore through the air, Fleur yelled out in agony.

He couldn't see what happened, when he trie dto spare a split second to see if she was still alive. Harry heard movement around him. He looked back to the direction he was defending and he saw incoming.

He cast at the closest one as it lunged for him. A blasting spell catching it's underbody, smashing it to smithereens. Without seeing the full effect he located the next closest one, with his eyes, he brandished his wand at it and another silent piercing hex shot out, catching its target, slicing through it.

To his right was the next closest and he connected with his next spell but they were all closing in now. He still didn't know what had happened to Fleur, he couldn't even see Cedric when he had glanced over his shoulder. The spiders were getting close enough to lunge at him. The ground was littered with bodies and he couldn't see across his whole field of vision anymore.

The end was nigh.

They couldn't keep up.

Was Viktor holding them off from above them? Had Cedric kept up the defense while Fleur was knocked down, possibly even incapacitated, or dead?

He knew he'd already be dead if it wasn't for his armor. Each breath was a struggle as his ribs had been crushed by the weight of the impacts he'd taken.

Harry grit his teeth, If this was it, he wouldn't go down easily. Harry kept up his torrent of spells. His body smothered with in sweat, blood, dirt and grime. His spirit refusing to break, he'd be dead before he gave an inch. If this was the end at least he'd taken down their leader. No, he told himself, he wouldn't let it end here, not now that his life was improving. He'd not fail his forebears and let his line end to somd sodding spiders.

He thought of anything that could save them.

He desperately wished Fawkes would come with the exact thing he needed, like second year. An avian saviour flashing in with a Sorting Hat! Him cleaving his way through a horde of enemies, wielding the famed founder's blade, like he was Godric Gryffindor reborn. But he wasn't Godric Gryffindor, he couldn't wield a sword, and Fawkes was not his familiar.

If he was in the library and trying to come up with an academic answer, to a hypothetical situation, this would have been the 'aha!' moment. The proverbial premonition of his deliverance having just been supplied, the moment where his brain connects to the obvious solution that would change everything.

He kept up his spellfire with his right hand, his left hand descended into his pocket. He reached and pulled out his salvation, their hope for salvaging this situation.

Cuddles was in his left hand; he started feeding his magic into his familiar. He'd been practicing this each day, working on their abilities together. As he poured out his magic into her, with a barely conscious thought, she grew, and grew, and grew.

One foot, two foot, two became three, and soon she was six feet tall.

It wasn't enough, he needed a proper dragon.

He poured out as much magic as he could. Cuddles kept growing, she grew to eight feet and still continued gaining height, passing ten feet. When she was twelve foot tall Harry was gassed. Cuddles had her slitted eyes focused on him. Harry didn't need to speak, he didn't need to, he could give her mental commands.

'_Protects us! Slay the spiders! Burn them all! Obliterate them!_ ' The commanding thoughts blurred together, his intent clear, as he directed his familiar, the now powerful dragon.

A ferocious roar was let out, the forest trembled.

The attackers faltered, frozen by the unexplained appearance of a dragon. The momentary shock ended and they continued. The arachnids were overwhelming their prey, victory was within their grasp, the latest development would not deter them.

Cuddles drew in a deep breath, craned her neck back and then shot her maw forward, elongating her neck and releasing a torrent of dragonfire.

The tide turned with a single action, the world was alight.

With a massive dragon now physically imposed between him and any incoming spiders. Harry could catch his breath and check in on the others.

He stumbled toward them, he moved around a body, one that must have just missed falling on him by a couple feet. He hadn't even noticed he'd almost been squished! He got around the massive monster and scanned for his comrades.

His eyes caught the sight of Fleur Delacour.

Blood was staining the right midsection of her back, her normally lustrous silver blonde hair had caught the orange-red glow of Cuddles handiwork, and she was disgustingly covered in a layer of filth. A mask of sheer determination was sketched across her face, even injured she refused to break under her foes onslaught.

She'd never looked more beautiful, more deadly. Spells raced from her wand lighting the surroundings on fire. She was felling spiders, left and right, refusing to be overwhelmed, she was standing tall, a vehement veela.

She was _so fucking glorious._

The macabre sight would be burned in his mind forever.

She was valiant as she stood tall against insurmountable odds. Vivacious the way she wielded her wand. Virtuous to not first consider her own welfare by abandoning her fellow champions. Valorous for refusing to succumb to her foes. Vengeful in her deliverance of her share of the carnage surrounding them. Harry's mind was working through words, each adjective failing to capture the moment, only catching an aspect, as he tried to fully comprehend and explain what he saw in this moment.

Bodies were littered around her, charred limbs had fallen scattered all over the clearing, fevered fires raged, and the desecrated forest provided the backdrop.

She was resplendent in her soft blue robes,her silver-blonde hair reflecting the deep orange and red hues.

He stood there in a trance, transfixed by the sight of her.

If his unconscious mind could stop and analyze this moment it'd reflect that it was similar to the first time he saw Hogwarts coming across the Black Lake. It was the kind of thing you could never, ever, forget, something you had to experience yourself to understand.

The sight of Fleur amidst macabre carnage was alien to how he had thought of her. He'd always known she was a skilled witch; but, it was hard not to think of her as the unearthly, ethereal beauty, the gorgeous foreign wall flower that you hope you could be lucky enough to entice into being yours but only in your dreams. Not this, not this down in the muck blooded warrior defending her comrades with ferocious skill and deadly precision, breaking their advances even as blood seeped out of her.

Another eardrum shattering roar was let out by Cuddles, bringing Harry back to coherence.

He looked back at his dragon and saw she'd lit the whole clearing on fire. Corpses of their foes were turned to blackened husks, webbing was melting, due to the intense heat, and the trees were engulfed in flames. Ash littered the air, clinging to his damp body. Harry knew, in that moment, that they had to get out of here, that they couldn't linger.

He turned back to his compeers. The spiders had relented, Cuddles incinerated their aggression. Viktor stood with his eyes focused on the dragon. His left arm limp against his body, his right hand cradling it at the elbow, his wand no longer gripped tightly in hand, as he stood slack jawed, staring at Cuddles.

Cedric was on his hands and knees, vomit stained his lips. The former contents of his stomach couldn't breach the sordid stench that surrounded them. Harry turned his eyes away from the heaving Hufflepuff and they softened as he caught sight of the sole female, once more.

She'd pulled her shirt up, exposing her toned midsection. Her wand tracing the wound on her side, the congealed blood was being removed. She winced while heavily concentrating on her task.

Harry stumbled as he moved on the slick uneven ground, making his way to her. The cut that she was sealing was a couple inches in length, jagged, and not a clean by any means. Harry cursed within his mind; he knew virtually nothing about healing.

"Are you alright?" He called out when her cut had been closed.

"Alright?! Non! We are about to be a dragon dinner!" She said hysterically.

"Who? Cuddles? No, she's mine. She won't hurt us, she's protecting us." Harry said as he reached her.

Viktor was moving towards them, he looked worse for wear than Harry had first thought, more injured than just the limp arm from the shoulder down, that he'd noticed. Cedric was crouched now and getting back up.

"Cuddles is my familiar. She's under my control." He looked over to where she was crashing through the trees in pursuit of scurrying spiders.

'_Cuddles,'_ he commanded in his mind, '_return, protect us.'_

The dragon shot one more torrent of fire and then bounded back to them. Her snout making contact with Harry's chest, rubbing against him affectionately, when she reached them.

"Ouch!" Harry exclaimed as she pushed her snout into his chest. Now that some of the adrenaline was wearing out he noticed just how sore his ribs were, they were probably sprained, if not fractured. His breathing was labored and the spots where he'd been hit from behind were bruised and tender, his body didn't like moving. Harry couldn't help himself from rubbing her snout, she'd just saved them.

"A dragon? Your dragon?" Cedric was four feet from the other three champions and he looked terrible. Cuts, scrapes, gashes and bruises littered him. His face was covered in ash, blood, and dirt, his blonde hair caked with muck, the pretty boy wasn't so pretty at the moment.

"Yeah," Harry said brightly, "this is Cuddles, my familiar! Cuddles meet Fleur Delacour, Cedric Diggory and Viktor Krum." He pointed at each of them with his wand as he introduced them. Cuddles dipped her head at each one in turn. The other teenage champions had no idea how to respond.

They'd all been close up to a dragon this year. The one before them, Harry's familiar, was nothing like the one they'd seen, a beast, caged and controlled. Regardless, this was the monster that had just desecrated the acromantula lair, and any of the spiders that had been unfortunate enough to be within range of her fire.

"Cuddles? You named a dragon Cuddles?" Fleur asked dryly, she looked exhausted and pale.

"Yep! She loves to cuddle and I didn't know miniature dragons existed, I thought she was like our figurines, from the first task, when I met her." He grinned and shrugged unrepentantly. "I'd change her name but she kind of loves it."

"Miniature? I thought it meant small?" Viktor asked looking between the other champions and then staring at the close up dragon that wasn't devouring them.

Cedric barked out a laugh, "It does! I don't get it. She's a little small compared to the largest breeds but she's not 'miniature'." He looked at Harry questioningly.

Harry looked around and saw no sign of imminent attack. He'd already given up the knowledge of him having a familiar, a dragon at that, getting out. With the way the forest was on fire around them there would be no covering this up. He placed his hand on Cuddles and withdrew the magic back into himself, willing her to shrink in size. He let her dwindle down to the normal size she normally kept, one measured in inches and not meters or feet.

Cuddles had to flap her wings to stay in contact with his hand. Once Harry was done, she flew onto his shoulder, her tail wrapped around his neck, dangling down towards his chest. It was one of her favorite cuddle positions.

"There, miniature." He couldn't help but laugh at their dumbfounded expressions. It wasn't every day you saw a dragon turn into the size of a toy. Even living in a magical world, where dragon's aren't only found in fairy tales, it wasn't something anyone would have even conceived of. The sight astounding even those who'd grown up with magic their whole life.

Fleur giggled, her musical laughter a contrast to the scene they were standing in the midst of. "Un petit dragon." She managed to say through her giggles. Her merriment stopped abruptly when she grimaced in pain from her wound to her midsection, her hand reaching to cover it unconsciously.

It snapped Harry back. "We need to get out of here, between the spiders and the fire we can't stay here." His hands worked to get the potions he'd brought with him. They could really use quite a few of his stock right now.

A massive log of a tree branch broke off and landed on the ground, scattering soot, ash and Merlin only knew what else. "Right, let's get out of the merlin forsaken forest." Cedric said, his eyes fixed on the flaming trees.

"We all good to move?" Harry asked looking over the other champions.

Nobody said they were not so Cedric began by leading them out of the lair. They had to work around the remains of the mangled car.

Viktor kept his wand in hand and scanned their surroundings. He was limping on his right leg. He must have taken a blow to his left side as his shoulder, arm and leg were all hurt. They stopped once they'd gotten fifty feet from the exit.

Harry was having some difficulty breathing, the air was putrid and his ribs hated the movement required for his lungs to expand and contract.

He used the detection spell for any creatures that were of immediate threat, he smiled at Fleur when he saw her cast the one to detect humans. There had been a gait to her movement that was unnatural to her. Her normally graceful strides were slow and disjointed, her offhand clutched on the spot the sealed gash was located at. He was concerned.

"Are you okay? You've not moving too well." Harry asked as they kept moving, Diggory had been joined by Krum up front and Harry was in the back with Fleur.

"Non, none of us are," she put the tip of her wand against his ribs, indicating she knew he was hurt too, "but we survived." She made the salient point, they'd survived by the skin of their teeth.

Harry agreed and then began passing out potions. He'd have to restock after this, he'd brought enough for himself and a couple backups. He'd not expected to supply the other champions.

He felt the potions take effect, the mixture of a pain reliever and pepper up brought renewed strength. Even so, most of them looked ready to keel over. Even having survived a harrowing encounter, he couldn't help but think this was just the beginning of a long, terrible day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure that was the first ever action scene I've written so hopefully it was good.
> 
> I'd forgotten to mention, in a previous AN, if you see language issues and point them out please also provide a fix as knowing that google translate has failed me and fixing the issue are two different things!
> 
> Guest reviews: If you leave a guest review with a question I can't message you…
> 
> I made a mistake and didn't have this chapter in the shared folder so Chapter 1 got beta'd instead of this one. It should be beta'd within a couple days and I'll repost it then.
> 
> As always, thanks for the support, follows, favs and reviews!


	25. Of Beds Feelings and Fallout

"Four broken ribs, three more cracked, a punctured lung, a cracked sternum, and don't get me started on the internal damage you've taken, Mr Potter." The stern Pomfrey had her lips pursed. "Sit your bottom down on the bed and strip out of your armor. You aren't going anywhere until I say so!"

Harry had been around the matron enough to know she was _not_ in the mood for wise cracks or disobedience. With a choice of comply or face her wrath, he complied right away with her orders. He winced and gasped in pain as he tried to lift his arms over his head. Now that the adrenaline had long faded, he was in agony. Every movement involving anything above the soles of his feet hurt. High pain tolerance, or not, the aftereffects of the two hits he took, the ones that should have ended him, felt like they were doing a bang up job of murdering him now.

Harry's attempt to take off his outer robes failed, the pain too great and his range of motion too limited by it.

If the movement wouldn't have hurt him so badly, he'd have smacked his forehead, with his hand, for his moment of stupidity. He'd made such good progress in doing almost everything magically. Dressing himself with the assistance of magic had been one of the things he'd been doing. He couldn't use it for his armor but the outer robes he could levitate off himself. Brandishing his wand he did just that.

He looked at them, they were pulverized with signs of battle. Fluids, random bits and Merlin only knows what else were caked all over it. Further, they'd been mangled at the sites of the two major impacts they had taken. He may as well vanish them, given the work to repair them, but since they were still holding items in them that he'd need, he decided against it. When he got dressed, later, he'd move his possessions over and then vanish the robes, they were not repairable.

Sadly, his armor resists magic, hence it being a useful magical armor, he couldn't magic it off. He took a deep breath. This shit was going to hurt, badly. He glanced around to see if anyone was around to help him, there wasn't. The other champions were enclosed off in their own beds, behind privacy screens.

Harry, and the rest of the champions, had been escorted directly into the medical tent upon exiting the forest. Each of them needed medical attention and there had been no fight to go straight there. The grounds had been a flurry with activity. In his exhaustion he'd not been able to catalogue much but something wasn't right. There were far too many security staff and he'd not seen the tournament organizers like he'd expected. Looking after their health was the first priority. Harry had been insistent on being helped last, as he knew he didn't have any life threatening issues.

Cedic, on the other hand, had been injected with acromantula venom, multiple times. He'd gotten up close and personal with many of them and he wasn't wearing armor. Harry didn't know what the exact effects of the venom was, but they couldn't be good. Cedric had barely made it out of the forest on his own power, he had multiple lacerations and was as pale as a ghost when they'd stumbled out.

Krum was already knocked out, lying on the bed opposite to him. They'd had to rebuild the bone structure in his shoulder and upper arm. Having to vanish splintered bone fragments, that had interspersed themselves into his muscles, meant they had to remove huge portions of his muscles as well.

Pomfrey had asked if he wanted to be knocked out for it and he'd told her no. Privacy hadn't really been a concern when they all showed up, for the guys at least, immediate triage had been too important. Viktor had stoically downed his potions, Harry assumed some must be for pain relief and numbing, and then Krum watched them mangle his body, removing bones and muscles. He now rested on the bed while his body was healing.

Viktor had been the second to last of the four champions to get medical assistance. Cedric had been second. Although he was in bad shape, when they exited the forest, he had at least been conscious. Fleur had not been, she'd been fading their whole jaunt back and her body had finally given out.

The only visible mark they'd discovered on her, without stripping her and checking her _entire _body, was the gash that Harry had seen her heal. There were no other spots where her clothes were stained with her own blood. When she'd collapsed, beside him, Harry had levitated her the rest of the way, in a brief moment of mental fatigue he'd considered carrying her until he realized he was having trouble breathing and was in no state to be doing any more physical exertion.

Between her earlier assurances that she was 'okay' and 'just tired', they'd thought she'd just ran out of energy. They'd have picked up the pace, to get her medical aid quicker, if any of them were in a state to do so, however, none of them had been.

Harry was the last to be looked at, and he knew he was going to be stuck here for some time. The injuries sounded like he'd gotten hit by a car and that he was lucky to be alive. Thankfully, with magic, he was already improving.

He honestly wasn't sure if Krum and Diggory would have made it out of the forest on their own power if it hadn't have been for his potions. His stash of general healing, antivenom, pepper-up and a pain relieving potions had been a life saver. Now that he thought about them, Fleur hadn't taken a pepper up, explaining why she collapsed and the others did not. He only had two of them with him. Fleur insisted Harry take the full dose, while the other two boys shared the second one.

It went without saying that Harry's preparedness for the task _far _outshone the others. His two different options for dragonhide armor, his emergency potions, and the invisibility cloak, which he had thankfully gotten it back from Cedric, were far beyond the wand and robes the others had showed up in. He'd bet his whole Gringotts balance that they'd be similarly decked out next task.

Harry saw Pomfrey come back in with a tray of potions to drink. He'd barely gotten out of his clothes in time and wasn't about to try and struggle out of his armor alone. With a cracked sternum he didn't think that lifting the armor off, over his head, was a bright plan.

"A little help with the armor?" He asked, his teeth showing as he sucked in a breath after failing to even lift the armor up off his shoulders.

She put the tray down and came over to help him. Raising her wand at him, she extended her wand arm, and slid the tip of her wand inside the amor's opening at his neck.. She worked it over to the right side of his chest and slowly channeled a spell from the tip of her wand, Harry had to mentally calm himself, working hard to repress his defensive instincts, which had been screaming at him to remove the threat, his fingers itching for his wand.

Madame Pomfrey's magic began to take effect, he felt his chest, shoulder and arms become infused with the foreign magic, his body numbing under its influence. Once satisfied, she moved the tip of her wand to the left side of his body and repeated her work.

"Right, drink this," she handed him two vials, which he promptly downed. "Now, let's get that armor off you." She motioned for him to raise his hands over his head. He did so, the absence of pain a wonderful thing, especially after he'd been expecting it to hurt.

He stood now just in his boxers. "Get your gown on." She told him impatiently, removing the two empty vials. Harry got his wand out again, he idly noted he'd not even considered taking it off, really, there was no chance he was taking his wand holster off anytime soon. Seeing the growing ire of the matron he got back on task, quickly cleaning his boxers, as best as he could, before easily putting the gown on, using his burgeoning magical finesse to button it.

Pomfrey had raised an eyebrow at his display of magic but didn't comment, the control to button up a gown wasn't common. "Good, get on the bed and stay still."

Harry sat down, swung his legs up and began to lie down.

"You don't have to be prone, just try not to move." She had the back of the bed tilted up so he would have a comfortable sitting position.

Harry could tell her patience was done for the day. She looked exhausted, something he wasn't sure he could have ever said about her before. That shook him.

He'd seen her after his dementor exposure, after falling off his broom, after having bones vanished, after being bitten by a basilisk, and following the possession of a student. Beyond that, being a school nurse she must be familiar with spell accidents and potions mishaps. She'd always been professional and had never looked worn.

Was it the quick succession of healing the four champions? Or, could it be one of them was actually in far worse condition? She'd already reassured him Fleur would be just fine, she'd just overtaxed herself. The cut had been cleaned out and with the assistance provided she'd would be just fine with rest. Cedric and Viktor, both of whom he could see, were sleeping peacefully in adjacent beds, not sectioned off for privacy within the hospital tent. Maybe one of them was worse than she'd said?

No, Harry didn't think that was it.

If the champions were all fine, or would be shortly, she was either withholding information about one of them being in far worse condition than she'd let on or something else had happened.

The possibility hit like a ton of bricks, where were their hostages? Unless there was some kind of major emergency while the task was ongoing those were the only things that he could come up with.

So where were they? Why had they not come to see them?

Pomfrey didn't give him a chance to ask. She'd finished working on him and had briskly left the tent, taking the empty potion containers with her.

Harry looked at towards Cedric and Viktor's areas, they both were quiet, soft snores emanating from Krum. Harry knew, from experience, that the amount of potions Cedric had downed would make him drowsy. Combined with his exertions in the task, it would put him to sleep.

Fleur's curtain opened and she was sitting up in her bed, attired in a hospital gown like the other champions. She smiled tiredly at him. "Make room, 'arry." She requested softly. She swung her legs over the bed and got out of the bed, slowly she made her way to his bed.

Harry shifted himself over on the bed, lifting his arse off the bed was a stupid idea, it bloody well hurt! The magic numbing his chest, shoulders and arms, that Pomfrey had channelled into him, had worn off. He grimaced in pain and caught the sympathetic look Fleur gave him.

She climbed onto the bed, her body aligned with his. She shifted over so the sides of their bodies were touching, her right against his left. With her head dropping onto his shoulder she whispered to him, "I don't want to be alone right now."

Harry nodded, he took out his wand and put up some simple privacy charms. People wouldn't be able to hear their conversation but they could be seen. He slipped his wand back into his holster and then painfully lifted his left arm up, wrapping it around her. He couldn't squeeze her without hurting his ribs but he wanted to comfort her.

"'Ave you ever experienced something like that?" She didn't look at him when she asked, Fleur had her eyes closed, her breathing carefully regulated.

"No, not like that." He shook his head slowly. "I've been in life threatening danger a few times but nothing like that." Even now the experience was affecting him. He was still confined and his mind was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Harry knew he was in a hospital tent, he knew he should be safe, but he didn't feel it. He felt on edge, even with the adrenaline faded from his system.

Harry wasn't sure how she might respond to that but he found she did not, not directly at least. She let out a short hum and snuggled her head further in, allowing her to give him a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you 'arry. Without you we'd be dead." She moved her head back, still keeping it on his shoulder.

The kiss was warm, soft. It brought his mind off the battle. Some of the edginess abated.

He breathed in deeply and then exhaled out his nose. He wanted to let his mind rest, like his body now was. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against hers, the contact with her was soothing, balancing.

After a few more seconds, he responded, "No, if any one of us were missing we'd all be dead." He couldn't have done any more than he had done. He could have, should have, died twice. He was lucky his fellows were so skilled, or he'd never have made it out of the lair. "Each person did their part." He replied a few seconds after his first sentence.

"You are too humble, 'arry." The whispered words left her lips. "You covered the same area as Cedric and I _combined_. And, you helped us, I saw it." She used her left hand to grab hold of his right one. She brought it up to her lips and kissed the back of it. "Do not argue with me, not now, 'arry." She squeezed his hand softly.

Fleur must have known Harry would be too stubborn to just accept the praise, so she talked on, not giving him a chance to reply. "Viktor was covering directly above. He also helped for those dropping down above the area Cedric and I defended."

She paused, took her head off his shoulder and looked at him. "You, 'arry," she punctuated his name, "you covered even that. We wouldn't have survived without you, I'm glad there are four champions."

"Thanks" Harry said, he knew he performed well but didn't think he was much better than the others. Cedric transfigured huge defenses that funnelled the spiders into traps. The route to escaping was where Cedric and Fleur battled, he assumed it would have more spiders, thus, taking two of them. Viktor killed the least but it was his sharp eyes that kept them alive. Killing descending acromantula _and_ keeping the bodies from dropping onto them. A task Harry wasn't sure he would have performed, he'd squinted and had had a hard time seeing the bloody bastards.

Harry closed his eyes, scenes of the battle playing out on the inside of his eyelids. He could smell the putrid air, he could see the fires reflecting off eight eyes. Bile rose up in his throat but he swallowed it down.

Fleur's lovely voice brought him out of reliving the days earlier events. "Tu étais magnifique, incroyable, exceptionnel." Harry didn't care to ask what she'd said, the feeling of her cuddled up to him was worth any pain it caused. Her warmth was warding off the coldness of his earlier actions. He wasn't worried about what this might bring. He needed her comforting presence right now.

He opened his eyes. This was an issue he'd dealt with before, the reliving of events after they were over. After all his troubles, Quirrell's death, the basilisk, the specter of Tom Riddle, dementors, remembering his parent's murders, he was experienced dealing with it.

He wondered if this was going to be any worse this time. He'd been far more deliberate in his taking of life, even if these were not humans, they were still sentient, sentient evil arseholes.

Fuck, what was he going to say to Hagrid? Saying 'sorry about blowing a gaping hole in your fifty year old pet spider' probably wouldn't go over very well with his first friend. It didn't matter. If Hagrid couldn't accept that he'd done it to protect himself that would be his problem. The man was culpable for allowing those non-indigenous spiders to even _be _in the forest, in the first place.

Harry tried to put it out of mind. Getting worked up over a hypothetical reaction didn't matter. Heal and relax, that was his immediate priorities.

"Do you think less of me now?" Fleur questioned, initiating dialogue between them again. Harry would have been fine with just her presence but she wasn't.

He could hear the question was thick with emotion and paused to consider what she was asking. These were delicate moments, he shouldn't respond without forethought. He recalled, all too well, how fragile he'd been when he talked with Dumbledore, in the hospital wing, after killing Quirrell.

"In what way?" He wanted a clarification. Was this in respect to a romantic interest? Was this some kind of misplaced in adequacy for not doing more? Or, was this for having killed and losing her innocence?

An answer didn't come, Harry felt hot tears on shoulder, sobs coming from the older girl.

Harry closed his eyes, he needed to help her through this.

"I don't think less of you, Fleur." He dropped his head on top of hers and risked upsetting his ribs by lightly squeezing her between his left arm and chest. "If anything, I think _more_ of you now. You didn't run, you didn't cower." He let his words sink in before he spoke further, he let her breathing calm.

"I was in awe of you." He breathed out quietly, remembering a specific moment.

She pulled her head off his shoulder and her eyes sought his. She stared at him; the proud arrogant girl missing. In her place was a fragile young lady.

But that wasn't what Harry saw. He saw a remarkable young woman, one that had willing walked into a lair of acromantula. She'd killed, been wounded and done what was necessary to come back out alive.

"You were amazing, you stood your ground, you controlled the battlefield with your flames and you _never _gave in, even after you were wounded. I could barely tear my eyes off of you, after Cuddles saved us, you were glorious." Harry ardently announced.

"I couldn't think less of you, not after seeing that. I doubt I could respect you more than I did in that moment, seeing you wounded and defending against the last of the spiders."

He broke eye contact with her. Perhaps he shouldn't have said it, he shouldn't have been so open and honest with her. But he knew this was critical. If he'd been told he was growing up to be a monster, just like Voldemort, after the Chamber, after Quirrell, he'd be a different person today. He wouldn't fail Fleur, he wouldn't let her question whether her actions made her a horrible person, not when they were in self defense, the defense of others.

"Don't let anyone disparage you for today. You fought and bled to keep us safe, honestl-" Any further comments were cut off, his lips had been captured, captured by Fleur's.

Her lips were soft, warm, was a delicacy to the kiss, an expression of deep emotions, this wasn't a lust filled snogging. Her lips moved slowly, deliberately. Her hand found his cheek and she traced his jawline.

Eventually, her magnetic lips released their pull on him. She kept her hand of his face, ensuring he looked her in the eyes, he could feel her breath on his face. "'Arry, I'm falling for you."

He looked deep into her eyes and didn't see anything but honest conviction.

"You must end this, have me or don't. I can't keep falling for you. Don't let this linger, it will crush me if I fall any further..."

She removed her hand and moved back, resting her head on his shoulder once more. "Je pourrais vous aimer déjà."

Harry hadn't known how to respond. He'd kissed her back and had watched her carefully, as she spoke to him. He swallowed hard and let himself enjoy Fleur's comforting presence. His words had helped her; her presence was helping him. He'd heard her whispered words and wanted to know what they meant.

"In English?" He asked.

Harry could feel, and hear, Fleur squirm. He could almost hear her thinking, the gears in her mind turning, working to decide how to answer.

"I said…" She started to say but then closed her mouth, not letting the words slip out of her mouth. She closed her eyes and inhaled quickly. She held her breath until a moment after she opened her eyes quickly. With a barely perceptible nod of her head, she lifted her head off his shoulder and used her soft delicate hand to turn his face to her. "I said, I might love you already." Though her first attempt had started out tentative and unsure, she finished with firmness in her voice. "I think I already do." She told him resolutely.

"You think you love me?" Harry questioned, the idea alien to him. How could she have come to love him, the thought came to him immediately.

"Oui, if not romantically, then as family." Her eyes turned mirthful, "Though, I 'ope it's romantically, I don't kiss my family like that, 'arry." She giggled at Harry, the idea funny to her.

Try and failing to respond to that he teased her back, "How would I know, you are French."

She riposted, "Zen you won't mind if I tell Gabrielle that's how you kiss family. I'm sure she'd love to kiss you like that."

Harry had a ghastly look on his face, the idea of locking lips with such a young girl made his stomach lurch.

Any further comments were stopped cold, Madame Pomfrey's voice cut into their conversation, "I'm not surprised to find you in the midst of mischief, Harry."

Though startled, he was able to reply smoothing, his wand hand deftly dispelling the privacy charms that had kept their conversation private. "It's not me this time! I'm innocent!" He defended himself.

"Innocent? Did I not tell you not to move?" She asked rhetorically. "And now I find you on the side of your bed with your arm around a pretty witch? I only told you to do one thing and you couldn't even follow that simple direction!" Her stern countenance held, for all of five seconds, before it gave way to her amused visage.

Though he was the butt of the joke, he was happy to see the regular bedside manner return. If some levity could be found on a day like today he'd take all the jokes they could pull on him. He was glad to see her earlier melancholic mood had not returned with her.

The entrance to the medical tent opened and in walked Daphne Greengrass, dressed in her normal school robes. Harry wondered what she was doing here. Of all the people he expected to visit here she wasn't at the top of the list. Natalia, Gabrielle, Patrice, or one of the tournament organizers would have made more sense, he thought.

"Miss Greengrass, no visitors are permitted, please leave." Pomfrey said as she moved to intercept the slytherin.

"I'm sorry Madame, I have to speak with Harry, it can't wait." She did sound regretful even if Harry doubted the sincerity.

"Be that as it may, the Headmaster has instructed nobody is to be allowed in until he allows it. You must leave." Pomfrey had stopped and was physically blocking Daphne from moving forward, a distance of two feet between them.

"I'm not here for a pleasure visit. I'm here as the heiress of House Greengrass, fulfilling my obligations for our family's role as Steward of House Black. I'm here to speak with Harry, the Regent Black, and according to the Hogwarts Charter, the Headmaster is not to interfere in official House business." She stood and made no further action to get toward Harry. She'd kept her tone polite and respectful while also conveying she was going to get her way because she was permitted to.

"Check with the Headmaster if you must." Daphne added trying to break the Matron's resolve to not have her patients disturbed, as per the Headmaster's orders.

"I will do that, right this instant." Madame Pomfrey huffed out. She sidestepped Daphne and briskly made her way out of the tent, displeased at this. Just after leaving the tent she popped her head back in. "Don't you dare move Mister Potter. If you escape I'll show no mercy the next time you are in my care." With her parting words delivered, eliciting a shiver from Harry, she added a stern glare and then left.

"You've escaped before?" Fleur asked? "You are such a _naughty_ boy." The double entendre not lost on the three of them that heard it.

Harry grinned at her, "Says the _witch_ that climbed into my bed."

He didn't really want to flirt in front of Daphne but he was also curious how she would handle it. She'd been cold to Natalia at first and hadn't been kind in her remarks about Fleur so far.

Daphne reached the end of the bed. "We don't have time for that." She snapped at Harry. "Can you pay attention and think clearly? Are you drowsy? Do you need a pick me up?" She fired off questions almost faster than Harry could keep up.

"No, I don't need a pepper up, I'm with it." Daphne was agitated, something he'd not seen before, it sobered him.

"Good, we have to make this quick. There are things you need to know," She looked Fleur up and down, a small sneer of distaste as she did so, "both of you." She focused on Fleur, "I'm addressing you as a Delacour, a friend of House Potter."

The formal address caught both of their attention. If there was any lingering doubts this was serious they were gone now, all pretenses that this might just be a friendly evaporated.

"Should Diggory and Krum be awake for this?" Harry asked quickly, before Daphne could get going.

"No, she shook her head, "I'm not supposed to know all this, and despite the malarky I gave Pomfrey, I shouldn't even be here."

Harry slid out his wand with practiced ease. The privacy spells sprouting from his wand, ensuring their conversation is kept private.

"Remember," Daphne plainly addressing Fleur, "this is for Harry, Delacour, friend of House Potter."

"I won't 'arm 'im." Fleur said, giving Harry a look she was honest in her reply.

"Listen up. I'll give you the details on what has gone on, out here, while you were in there. _Don't _interrupt. I'll answer questions if there is time, before I'm kicked out."

Neither of the two students sitting on the hospital bed replied, they kept silent and let Daphne get on with whatever this was.

"Nobody could see what went on, we all stared at the forest and were bored. That was until Karkaroff collapsed at the judges table. People began to try and help him, Dumbledore and Pomfrey among them. While they were still busy tending to him, Crouch and Bagman collapsed."

Fleur gasped, her hand shooting to her mouth. Harry himself was shocked, not sure how to react. But with those judges collapsing…

"They blocked everyone off from them, Madame Bones took charge of the situation. While everyone was trying to figure out what happened, what was presumably the hostages, four disgusting sacs appeared on the competitors platform, in front of the judges."

That was good, the blood-locked portkeys worked for the hostages. Dumbledore had said the portkeys would only work for the hostages, nobody else. He had been worried, before the task, that the portkeys would fail.

Daphne was standing at the end of the bed, by their feet, and she put her hands on the end of the bed and leaned in.

"I saw them open one, it had Cho Chang in it. She looked like Death had taken her. She was so pale, unmoving, unresponsive." Daphne's clinical delivery of information broke as she recounted what she'd seen. It had obviously shook her to affect her in the retelling of it now.

"Gabbi! Is she okay? Is she fine? I have to see her!" She started panicking, worrying about her sister. She started moving to get off the bed when a spell hit her.

"Remember what I said, _Delacour_." She spat out the name. "I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't know this and you _both_ shouldn't be hearing this. Stay still and shut up." Daphne had frozen Fleur and didn't bother to release her.

At the first sign of the spell Harry had his wand in hand, and it was going to stay there, for now at least. He felt bad for Fleur but trusted Daphne enough to believe she wasn't doing this to be malicious. She had been positioning herself as a more fair, neutral, party.

"I don't _know_ how they are doing. A medical emergency was called in. All four of them were whisked away to Saint Mungos, though I heard they were alive when they left." She actually looked remorseful that she didn't know how they were.

Harry gave Daphne a stern look, keeping Fleur frozen wasn't kind. She still had her wand in hand and at his challenging look she relented, ending the spell on Fleur.

Fleur didn't say anything, though she looked _distinctly_ displeased. Harry thought she might have shared a quick look of thanks with Daphne but it was hard to tell from how they were sitting.

"Right after the hostages were taken away, someone called out that smoke was visible over the forest. Nobody had any idea what was going on, it was pandemonium." She dropped her head and with lips pursed she shook her head. "The loud roar that came from the forest helped; everyone stopped freaking out, instead they were frozen." Daphne had a glazed look in her eye as she remembered the moment.

Harry exchanged a knowing look with Fleur, his slight shake answered the questioning look she had when she gestured at Daphne with her eyes. He hoped she understood Daphne didn't know about Cuddles and they weren't volunteering that information right now.

Daphne, either oblivious to this, or uncaring, continued as if she didn't see their silent exchange, even though it was right in front of her. "There were great swaths of smoke at this point. If it was coming from Hogsmeade you'd have thought the whole village was on fire. We heard another great roar and there were huge black pillars of smoke, even the tops of the flames were visible from the stands. Whatever it was, that was it, the breaking point."

Harry was lost, for a second, when he closed his eyes. The burning forest, Cuddles ferocious defense and all of them so injured, exhausted. He shivered at the memory and refocused, he couldn't get distracted.

"Bones called a State of Emergency. She's called in all personnel, aurors and hit wizards."

"A State of Emergency? How? Why?" That seemed an overly extreme reaction to the task.

"Harry," Daphne said, half exasperated and annoyed, "_two_ department heads for the ministry collapsed. Durmstrang's Headmaster was put in a body bag. A Pavlov and a Delacour were taken away by emergency medical evacuation, that's not mentioning a Chang and Krum. I have no idea what happened in the forest; whatever happened is about to blow up." Her eyes were wide and she was imploring Harry to understand that this was _significant_. That this wouldn't just blow over.

Harry thought about that. Given the magical contracts that guaranteed the hostages safety, and the collapsing of those three, magic had deemed them in breach of their obligations. Crouch and Bagman would have no magic now, hence the collapse. Karkaroff had signed on pain of loss of magic for Krum and loss of life for Natalia. Now he was apparently in a body bag.

What a bloody buggering mess.

Harry was pulled out of his head, Daphne had her fingers right in front of his face, she was snapping them repeatedly, loudly, demanding his attention.

"Good, you're back with us?" She asked rhetorically. "Pay attention." She said snippily.

"You can't trust Susan's aunt. She _is_ trustworthy but this is going to go over her head, to the Wizengamot and the ICW. Important people have died, or have been injured badly enough to be evacuated."

Fleur's hand squeezed his hard when she mentioned that her sister was injured. She either feared Daphne freezing her again, or, more likely, she had decided to stay silent.

"This is going to get messy and you _have_ to protect yourself. When they come to interview you, demand representation first. Father is already working on getting your representation here. They are going to try and ask what happened. _Don't say anything_. Even if you've done nothing wrong don't say anything. You won't need to, they have already sent teams into the forest.

"I won't." Harry promised.

After failing to notice the matron come in previously, Harry had used privacy spells that allowed them to hear and see what was going on around them. All three of them heard the commotion heading toward the medical tent.

Harry got an idea, he summoned the invisibility cloak and floated it to Daphne. "Take this, sneak out of here."

She quickly put on the cloak and disappeared from sight. "Thanks Daphne." He called out, not too loudly though, as he was removing the privacy spells.

"That was very kind of her…" Fleur muttered, she was pouting, upset at having to give Daphne credit for helping them.

She sat up, straightening her posture, readying herself for whomever was about to enter the tent. "Don't let them separate us. I'll help you. We must find out how Gabrielle is, Papa must be with her if he's not here." She kept hold of his hand, tightening her grip on it.

The flap opened and in came Director Bones, flanked by Madame Pomfrey, who was updating the Director on the health of her patients.

"Diggory and Krum are going to be groggy, at best, sleeping until tomorrow is my expectation. Diggory is fighting off the acromantula venom and replenishing his blood levels. Krum is having his whole side rebuilt, he's on enough potions that he'll be out for hours, if I wake him he'd be less than coherent, same with Diggory."

"Thank you Madame. In your professional opinion are Mister Potter and Miss Delacour of sound mind at this moment?" Amelia Bones asked curtly.

"They are." The matron replied affirmatively.

"And are they in good enough condition to be medically stable for the rest of the day?"

"Harry Potter should not be moved and Fleur Delacour should minimize any movement of her midsection. Both are mending and, as long as they do not aggravate their wounds, they are medically stable. I'll need to check on them in an hour or so, both should be fully healed tomorrow."

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey." Amelia's tone made it clear she was dismissed.

"Mister Potter, Miss Delacour." She greeted them. "I'd like to ask you some questions about what happened in the forest."

Harry noticed she hadn't actually asked a question, she'd just stated what she would like to do.

While he mused how to respond Fleur jumped in. "'Ow ess ma soeur? Where ees she?" Harry struggled to keep his face blank when Fleur started talking with a heavy accent, it was hilarious to see her playing the role, she was quite skilled at it too, he thought. He was able to keep the humor inside, even managing to show his actual concern for the little girl he'd come to like.

"Yeah, where are Natalia and the other hostages? Shouldn't they be coming to see us?" Harry feigned his ignorance.

Madame Bones swiveled her head to look at the entrance of the tent, she looked back at Harry and gave him a flat look.

"We will speak on that shortly, Miss Delacour. Let me first make you aware of what is going on with you." Leaving no time for contradiction she pressed on, "A State of Emergency has been enacted. The four of you have been cordoned off while you are healing. You will all make a full recovery, by midday tomorrow, after which we will conduct any official business that is required. During this time your immediate family will be the only ones permitted to visit."

Harry nodded, this wasn't up for negotiation. Bones was dropping by to inform them. Harry was focused on the Director and hadn't noticed how Fleur had taken that.

"What did Daphne Greengrass tell you of what has gone in while you were in the forest? Don't try and deny she was in here, Pomfrey told me, and," she tapped her eye, "my monocle doesn't miss much."

"Karkaroff is dead, Bagman and Crouch were penalized by the contract, you've declared a State of Emergency, and the hostages were taken to St Mungos, alive, but looking like they were dead." He had a good working relationship with the woman and she didn't miss much. She might be hamstrung by the Ministry but the woman did not get to be the Director of Magical Law Enforcement by nepotism or bribery, she'd earned it.

"Then let me set your mind at ease," she addressed Fleur more directly. "Your sister is alive and her symptoms are not considered life threatening." Harry felt Fleur relax, a weight coming off her shoulders, one Harry was relieved of, as well, he was worried for Natalia too.

"However, they are being looked after by specialists; their prognosis is unclear at this time. All of the families have been contacted; your father is with your sister."

"Unclear?! Is she alright?!" Fleur couldn't keep her composure, she desperately needed to know how Gabrielle is.

"I've received no further updates aside from 'they will live' and 'they are being worked on'. Ask Pomfrey later." She said dismissively, not wanting to discuss the topic further. A bit callous of a move, Harry thought.

"You four will be kept here while we are securing the area; you are not permitted to leave the medical tent. The exit has two veteran aurors and the tent is warded to keep everyone without permission out for now." She sent a glare at them, warning them to cooperate.

"Are we being held and suspected of anything?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed, he did not like the idea of being confined.

"No. You are being _protected_. The task has been disturbed, a second time, resulting in the death of the Headmaster of one of the leading magical schools and the death of two department heads. All four champions suffered life threatening injuries and all four hostages are being treated at St Mungos, with an unclear status. Until we are certain the worst is over you are being protected."

He still didn't like being confined but he realized that cooperation was the only option here. He'd be spending the night in the Hospital Wing even if he was free to leave.

Bones rounded on them again, after they digested the news. "Now, did you encounter anything worse, or more dangerous, than the acromantula?" She demanded to know.

Harry shook his head, and cast a glance to Fleur. She tilted her head in thought and asked a question confusedly.

"How do you know this?"

"You mean, beyond the webbing the hostages returned in and the acromantula venom you and Mister Diggory are being treated for?" She asked rhetorically and with annoyance.

Fleur colored a little and drew in closer to Harry.

"I asked because the forest is about to be culled of anything remotely dangerous. Full ministry forces, including aurors, hit wizards, and staff from the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, will be headed in shortly. Preliminary investigations into the happenings of the forest, have already started and there are ongoing investigations into the Second Task and tournament governance as a whole." She paused and looked them over before cating a tempus and nodding to herself.

"That is all the time I have now. Update the other two when they wake if you'd like. I'll send Pomfrey back in now." She strode away from the bed but stopped after opening the flap.

With a backward glance she called out to them. "Rest up and we will speak tomorrow." With her peace said she left.

After some time, where neither of them spoke or slept, Madame Pomfrey returned to the medical tent.

"You are both doing well." She told them after checking them both out.

"Can you tell us anything that is going on out there?" Harry asked, beseeching her to provide information. Daphne had yet to return, she probably couldn't now, and there was no sign of Patrice Delacour.

"Most students are being allowed back into the school now. None are allowed to leave though. DMLE members arrived enmasse and entered the forbidden forest, following those that had already entered right after you lot returned."

"I suspect once the forces that entered the forest return, more clarity will come. I'd suggest a potion for dreamless sleep tonight. I'll be giving the other two a dose in a moment."

"What about my sister and the other hostages? Do you know anything?" Fleur was imploring her for any kind of information. She desperately craved to know about her status.

Harry thought Fleur's request broke down the matron's resolve to not say much. "They were alive when they left. Unmoving, but breathing, and all with a heartbeat." Fleur and Harry both felt some relief. Both were truly grateful for the matron providing them this information.

"Now that I've thought on it further, I think they were poisoned with a paralytic agent." She frowned, blatantly unsure of her own diagnosis.

"Why do you think that?" Harry asked, holding Fleur, with his left arm, a little tighter.

"Do either of you know much about acromantula? How they attack and what kind of wounds we treat?"

"Not really." Harry answered for them both, slowly. "I'd guess venom, cuts, and stab wounds from their pincers?"

"Mostly correct" She affirmed. "Their pincers normally remove limbs, for those that survive the injury. Venom enters their system and it works to shut down the body by dissolving the organs of the individual."

Fleur shudders involuntarily against Harry. Harry tightened his grip on her, briefly, and the skin around his eyes tightened as he imagined how unpleasant that would be.

"Normally when a wizard, or witch, encounters one, and lives to tell of it, they have killed the spider and are taken for medical attention. This would be a quick turn around as the venom works quickly."

"Longer than how long our hostages were trapped?" It would explain why they were so pale, though Harry quickly considered that it must not be the case as they were treating both Cedric and Fleur for the venom, he idly noted that his general antivenom potion would have been quite useful for their walk out of the forest.

"This circumstance _may_ be more... unique." She informed them gently.

"How so?" Fleur asked, intently focused on the conversation. The question has been on Harry's lips but they didn't depart before Fleur spoke them.

"They were captured, wrapped up, and were prepared to be eaten. But, and here is where I am guessing, I _think_ they didn't inject them with their lethal venom."

Huh, that would make some sense, Harry thought. Aragog said they wouldn't harm them. As much as he hated the beast he'd always been up front, announcing his honest intentions to have him turned into food for his sons and daughters.

"I think they were given some form of paralytic venom, to keep them contained, not squirming and trying to escape."

"Why is that important?" Fleur might have known but Harry had no idea, so he asked.

"There are no cases, I've heard of, where humans are captured, taken into the lair, and then _successfully_ retrieved, especially not _alive_. Meaning, there is no precedent for how to treat them."

Fleur's free hand was covering her mouth, her eyes were distant and filled with worry.

"But, there's nothing either of you can do. They are in the care of the healers and they will work to find an antidote for the paralytic, if that's what it is. So, drink up and rest. Tomorrow will come and a good night's sleep will prepare you for the day." She told them kindly.

"Are we safe in here?" Harry asked, he'd been sleeping in the Chamber of Secrets, nothing to worry about there. He knew Director Bones had the place warded and with auror guards but he knew Pomfrey looked after all her patients. If she had any concerns she would tell him.

"You are. Nobody unauthorized can enter through the temporary wards. Bill Weasley set them up and there are two Aurors stations outside the entrance as well. It's why your friend, Miss Greengrass, has not been able to come back, the wards weren't set the first time around, allowing her in."

"Thanks" Harry said.

"Good night dears, take your potions and get some rest.." She said and gave them a tight smile. She went over to Cedric.

Harry grabbed the first potion and downed it. He made for the next but stopped before he tipped the bottle up when the matron spoke once more.

Pomfrey reappeared, after checking on Diggory and she came to Harry's bed. "I almost forgot, Miss Greengrass asked me to pass along that your father is with Gabrielle and will see you tomorrow, Miss Delacour. And for you, Harry, that things are being handled, you don't need to worry."

"Thanks, Madame. For the care, and information." He downed another potion.

"You're welcome my dears. I'll even allow you to stay together." The mischievousness in her words not lost on either of them.

"Merci." Fleur added before she gulped back the Dreamless Sleep Potion.

Harry mirrored her and then lowered the bed, slowly, so as to not disturb his wounds.

Madame Pomfrey floated two pillows to them and then a large blanket, allowing them to get comfortable. Fleur tucked a pillow behind his head and cuddled into his side. Harry had to stay on his back, his ribs were healing and delicate. Fleur was on her side, her body against his, but not on top of it.

"Goodnight Fleur," Harry yawned.

"Bonne nuit" She replied after kissing him on the cheek.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry woke slowly. He was so comfortable, rested, and warm. There was a gentle breeze on his shoulder, just above his armpit.

Wait, that was odd. There was no breeze on any other part of his body. Peculiarly, the air was warm too. He opened his bleary eyes and looked to the spot where he felt air flow. Silver-blonde hair filled his vision.

Fleur? He wondered.

Did she sleep in the same bed as him? Why would she be in the chamber with him?

Harry closed his eyes and tried to recall what was going on.

He opened his eyes again and looked around. There were curtains all the way around the bed, blue-green ones, the bed sheets were white, and the bedding too. The bed was metal framed and he recognized it. He'd woken up too many times in a bed like this, a hospital bed.

He shut his eyes again.

Slowly, he opened them again and enjoyed how they were finally adjusting to the light.

Silver-blonde was still there when he turned his eyes on her again.

He shifted up, trying not to jostle her. The movements no longer hurting his ribs, shoulders and chest. It was good to know he was able bodied once more.

Was this what it would be like to be married? To wake up with a beautiful woman in your bed, each and every day? A familiar comfort for the end of the day, a wonderful way to wake each morning? If this is what it was like, he could easily see how he'd love to get used to this.

Harry put up a couple privacy spells, he didn't want to be seen, he wanted to protect the sanctity of this moment. With his wand placed away, he began to gently stroke her hair, the silver-blonde color fascinating him. The way it picked up light and reflected the colors around them. Visions of her orange-red hair during the midst of battle came to his mind unbidden.

Given what he'd gone through yesterday, during the Second Task, he didn't expect to feel so good, so refreshed, and so comfortable when he woke today.

"I could get used to this…" He whispered to himself, and he really could.

Fleur lifted her chin, blissful happiness shining across her lovely face. "I could as well." She smiled up at him, her eyes closing when he ran his hand through her hair, starting from her scalp and down her back, as far as he could reach.

Harry blushed, he hadn't thought she was awake.

"I must thank you," She started out and upon seeing his raised eyebrow she clarified, "for this."

"Why? I like this too. Your presence helped after yesterday too." He didn't think she'd benefited much more than he had. Her presence had helped keep him calm, the jitters he'd felt settled when she joined him on his bed.

She shook her head, except the effect was closer to her trying to burrow into him more than shaking, "Non, did you forget I am veela?"

Harry looked down at her with consternation, why did that matter, he wondered?

She must have seen the confusion and explained what he'd forgotten. "I can feel your emotions when we are touching, how you _truly _feel about me."

"Oh... right." Harry felt a little embarrassed he'd forgotten that in this moment. "I thought that was for romantic interests though?" He asked, a little confused on how it would be so helpful. Sure she had kissed him but it wasn't like they'd snogged in bed or anything.

Fleur giggled lightly, "'arry, when we talked yesterday we were touching. When I kissed you I could feel how you felt about me. When you talked about me, I could discern what you were trying to express with words."

She pushed herself up and gently touched her lips to his, not leaving her lips lingering long past a chaste kiss, though describing it as chaste would be errant.

"When you reassured me, when I was worried you'd see me differently…" Fleur looked lost in the moment. She closed her eyes and shivered. "It was… was… mmm, 'ow did you describe it?"

Harry stayed silent, not sure where this was going. He kept his face blank but didn't stop running his hands through her hair, he didn't pull away from her.

"'Glorious', 'in awe', 'you couldn't tear your eyes off me', you 'couldn't respect me more'. That is what you said about me. But I felt it, 'arry. I could _feel_ what your words were trying to convoy."

Harry couldn't help himself from correcting her. "Convey, not convoy, I think you meant." He grinned as he saw a hint of pinking in her cheeks.

"Convoy, convey," she waved her hand dismissively, "all that matters is what I felt from you. You love me 'arry, you can't deny it, I _know _it." She put her index finger on his lips, keeping him from objecting, from saying anything.

"I can feel it, you want me. You appreciate my beauty but are not... lucherous… leberique?" The final word Fleur struggled with, the correct word escaping her grasp on both attempts.

"Lecherous?" Harry offered, his lips moving against her finger. He adored these word mixups, her embarrassed frustration was endearing.

"Oui," She replied. "When I was terrified in the forest you were there. When we needed help, you were there. When I needed help after, you were there. When I woke in the hospital, you were there. When I was overwhelmed and worried about my sister, you were _here_. Your presence, your emotions, I engulfed myself in them. I let them wash over me and I used them as a blanket to wrap and protect myself in...

"I find myself wanting you, needing to be with you, will you not accept me? I _know_ how you feel about me." There wasn't a sense of desperation, no sign of her needing his approval. She wanted him but not from a subservient position. She knew who she was, she knew what she was offering and she wouldn't debase herself for any man.

Harry had frozen. He found it disconcerting to know she could actually tell how he felt about her. He'd kind of hoped the opposite happen with her as it did Natalia. Natalia had been instant attraction and chemistry. Once the politics got involved, once she got exposed for manipulation, things deteriorated. If Natalia had been a Delacour, and not manipulated him, he'd be courting her.

Whereas Fleur had started out terribly. Arrogant, snooty, conceited and just an unattractive person to him, the inside mattering as much, if not more, than the exterior beauty. But, as he'd gotten to know her, as he'd spent time with her, they got on so well and she was everything she told him she was. Smart, sexy, gorgeous, and strong, she was all of that and more.. He'd gotten a good measure of her character, especially now that she was battle tested. When things were dire she was valorous, valiant.

However, life wasn't so simple. He could follow his father's footsteps. He could marry the girl he liked and not bother with the politics. Slughorn hadn't pulled punches when he described the Potter side of the negotiations. They agreed to all reasonable terms that Lily Evans wanted. They wanted to make their son happy, that was their priority.

Instead of matching James with a neutral family, or tying them to another powerful political bloc, so they'd be politically insulated from being targeted by Voldemort, they added a young woman of immense talent and character, who brought the family _nothing_ in the short term, nothing other than their _sole_ heir's happiness.

Happiness didn't keep the Potter family alive. Happiness didn't insulate the Potters from the brink of extinction, only a fluke of magic saved the infant heir.

Harry didn't like it; he didn't want to go through with Slughorn's suggested options. He wanted to have a wife, children, a home, a simple life. Horace had smashed that naivety. He was _world famous_. He was trying to revive the Potter family. He was Regent Black and responsible for turning around a family that has no eligible heirs and only a scarce few members, where they had been three males eligible for headship just over a decade ago.

It lead to this problem. He liked Fleur, really, really liked her. But he wouldn't act on it. He couldn't take her as a sole wife. He wouldn't string her along nor play with her heart. He was too honourable and respected her, and her family, too much.

"If only it were that simple…" Harry lamented. "What about children, heirs? I'm a regent and head, you're an heiress. Three children, one male and two females, for three prominent families?" He shook his head sadly, not making eye contact with her, "That won't work. It'd be _barely_ acceptable for just three children for my two houses." He felt morose as he admitted it aloud. He'd kept her at arm's distance, rarely ever flirting back, or leading her on, just because he couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Why bother pursuing a dead end?

"Maybe so.. but, there is a benefit to any offspring we may have." Her smile was more subdued now, he could see she understood the issue with a match between them.

"Oh?"

Slughorn had given him the political outlook on marrying a Delacour. A Potter-Black-Delacour connection was good, especially for international clout and trade. However, it had more limited benefits for the homefront. They were not a numerous family, their numbers thinned fighting Grindelwald, and they lacked any sway with the Wizengamot and local Ministry of Magic. With a potential war looming, it wasn't the great timing for the match. In times of peace, where they didn't require a stronger presence here, the match would be far more favorable. Extending their influence, renown, and prospective economic benefits were promising, longterm.

"You remember when you asked why being called a creature wasn't a compliment?" She sported a broad grin as she asked, humor dancing in her eyes.

Harry nodded, it was when he visited the Delacour's and went through the garden.

"Veela are inherently more magical than a witch of wizard. Part veela are always strong, magically. You are strong, overwhelmingly so for your age, my veela practically sings when we are together like this." Her impish look wasn't lost on him. "Our children will be powerful, they will have dense and strong magic. Some 'ave said it is the reason veela do not breed well with humans. Magic is balanced, powerful children but limited in number."

"No part veela breeding programs for wizarding armies?" Harry added a bit of a humorous content trying to find time to process that.

"Non." She wrinkled her nose in disgust, her upper lip pursed.

Huh, if that was true, and Harry had no reason to think she'd lie about that, that _might_ change things. Two guaranteed powerful heirs… it was something he'd have to bring up with Slughorn. He could, and maybe should, bring it up with Cyrus too. With his family having a contract with the Black's it always made Harry feel like his input on the matter was biased, even with the unbreakable vow.

"Maybe we should talk to Papa about it, oui?"

Harry shrugged. He didn't really know what to say to that.

He really liked Fleur but wasn't going to just profess his love and marry her. She might love him, he might love her. He certainly enjoyed the kiss, he wouldn't mind exploring that side of a relationship with her. But, he couldn't just jump into a relationship. She could initiate and he would reciprocate but he'd not lead her on. It was the same with Natalia, she'd pushed the envelope physically, not him. He was willing to go back to being friends, she wasn't.

Fleur yawned and reached her arms up over her head, stretching in an exaggerated manner. The movement's were not missed by a pubescent young man. Her chest was pushed out and, with her lying down beside him, he got a short glimpse of exceptional cleavage, his eyes drawn there whether he wanted to or not.

"It is not just my derrière that you enjoy watching, I see." She giggled and rolled off her side, onto the other one, facing away from Harry, and then she slid to the edge of the bed, she sat up.

"I believe it is time to face the day 'arry, even if I don't want to leave your bed." She winked at him. "But I wish to go see Gabrielle and know what is going on. It was a wonderful reprieve but, I fear, things are going to get complicated today."

She stood up, getting off the bed, and leaned over, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Get changed and let's talk with Viktor and Cedric, if there aren't any others waiting to talk to us already, we can talk another time."

When she'd left Harry got out of bed and debated what to wear. He had his dragonhide armor and back-up clothes in case he'd gone into the lake tucked away. Should he keep his armor on? He quickly ruled out the heavy armor but decided to keep the lighter armor on, under his robes, nobody would be able to see it. He shouldn't need it but it felt like a good idea.

When he'd gotten attired he removed the privacy screens and then took down his spells. At the end of the bed there was a table tray with breakfast on it. Though he'd not noticed yet, he was ravenous. He levitated the tray to himself and then looked around.

"Morning Harry, doing okay?" Cedirc asked, the older hufflepuff asked. He was dressed in his normal uniform this morning and he was working through the half empty breakfast food tray.

"Yeah, I feel a lot better this morning." Harry responded to Cedric then turned to start shovelling in some food.

He sniggered when he heard Cedric mutter "I'll bet you do." Harry also didn't miss the glance in Fleur's bed's direction when he said it under his breath.

It was almost immediately after Cedric's comment that Fleur came out, dressed in her normal Beauxbatons clothes.

"Is Viktor awake?" She asked, looking at Cedric.

"He was, not too long ago, he ate." He gave a half shrug as he put more food in his mouth.

Krum's privacy screens were still blocking view of his bed. Just after Fleur asked after him the privacy screens were removed. He was attired in his normal Durmstrang clothes and sitting on the edge of his bed, a stern scowl on his face. He inclined his head at each of them in greeting, not one to give idle platitudes.

"My dad visited this morning, he works for the Ministry and is pretty well connected..." Cedric lead, and made sure the three other champions were focused on him before he got into it.

"The hostages are all in stable condition at Saint Mungos; they are in a coma like state though... The contracts punished the organizers, Headmaster Karkaroff is dead, Crouch lost his magic and rumors are he is dead. Bagman didn't survive losing his magic, he's deceased as well." Cedric informed them with a dull and heavy voice, he'd put a small bite of food back in his mouth but he was chewing mechanically, not paying attention to consider swallowing.

Harry hung his head; he wasn't sure how to feel about that. Because he'd made such a big deal about ensuring their safety, two, probably three, people were dead. Karkaroff might have survived losing his magic but not his life, that was the condition for Natalia's involvement. The Pavlov family had been ruthless with that stipulation. Karkaroff was an idiot for agreeing to it, no way Harry would agree to something like that when it would have been out of his control.

"Director Bones is marshalling major investigations on _everything_ to do with the tournament. It was decided we'd be healed and kept isolated; we'd be given space to collect ourselves until late morning or early afternoon. So, we're kind of stuck here until then." Cedric continued to let them in on what he knew.

"I heard they were sending aurors and hit wizards into the forest, did your dad mention that?" Harry asked, looking back up, his food far less appetizing than it was just a minute ago.

"Oh, yeah, he mentioned that actually." Cedric rubbed the back of his neck as he said it. "They sent in almost all their DMLE active duty staff and they culled anything they considered dark or dangerous in the forest. There shouldn't be any acromantula's left now, not that there should have been _any_ to begin with." He added the last part quietly, though there was a little heat in it.

"Good. Hope they suffered." Krum voiced his opinion darkly.

Harry exchanged a look with him, his eyes were hard.

Krum's thought on the matter resonated with Harry. The organizers should _never_ have allowed them to face off against a horde of acromantula. There shouldn't even be any around a school full of children. Dumbledore and Hagrid were going to have a lot to answer for, Hagrid would likely be sacked from his teaching position, and if he was unfortunate enough, he may well find himself in Azkaban.

"Any word whether they will be asking us for a deposition or official questioning?" Harry asked when they had all been silent.

"I don't know. Dad thought there was no wrongdoing on the champions parts." He shrugged then spoke on, "The deaths of the organizers was their fault; they didn't have to use hostages for the task. As for killing acromantula, they'd be happy we destroyed an acromantula colony. None of us should be under suspicion of any wrongdoing. They will probably want our account, speaking of which, what are we going to tell them?"

"Noone knows of Cuddles?" Fleur asked, getting to the heart of the issue.

"Where is she?" Cedric wondered.

Harry reached into his pocket and withdrew her. She stretched her wings and flew through the tent, dipping, diving and flying in circles around the champions. All of them just watched her, there was something cathartic about it, mesmerizing even.

After a couple minutes she shrieked and then let out a small roar, diving towards Harry and landed in his lap. She moved in circles, using her snout and tail to arrange Harry's robes into a little nest and she lied down on him, her body wrapped in a ball with just her head extended, her chin resting on his body.

Harry's hand began sliding along her scales, rubbing and scratching where she enjoyed it. If she was a cat she'd be purring in his lap.

"She's registered as my familiar, a miniature dragon," Harry couldn't help but grin broadly at Viktor when he remarked that, "so the legalities are all covered. I'd prefer not to let the public know I can make her into a large dragon though." Harry wasn't sure they'd all go along with keeping that ability quiet.

"How would you explain the fires though and the roaring?" Cedric asked.

Harry smiled enigmatically. He rose off the bed and conjured a wooden dummy, a simplistic one with just a circular log type middle with two sticks for arms. He conjured a glass shield behind it and spelled it with a fire retardant spell, he was a master at making things fireproof now. Thankfully Cuddles had stopped lighting fire to things whenever she got bored.

'_Burn the dummy, short burst'_ he commanded his small familiar. A small steam of fire came out of her mouth.

The dummy caught on fire but it had a minimal effect, the stream of fire was no more than an inch or two in width. It would be a rather painful attack but it wouldn't disable a fully grown wizard.

Fleur was leaning forward now, her sharp eyes narrowed, she was paying close attention now. Krum was sporting his perpetual scowl but he had shifted to see better, the only sign of his intrigue. Cedric had stood and moved around, behind Harry, to get a better look.

Nobody said anything while Harry gave a small break in time to make sure they got a good look at the level of damage done.

'_Burn the dummy, continuous flame' _Cuddles flapped her wings, taking off from the end of the bed, where she was perched and swooped around. Gliding in she came to a stop four feet in front of the dummy and, whilst hovering, she let out a long torrent of flames, the same thickness as before.

Harry pointed his wand at the stream of fire, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of the magical flames. He could feel it, powerful, predatory, destructive, annihilating. The magical dragon flame had a thirst for destruction but not in a malevolent way.

He focused on the magic, feeling it, sensing it, and channelled magic through his wand feeding it, fueling the flames. The two inch width grew exponentially; the flames grew in size and depth, Harry's magic acting as accelerant. Within a second the whole dummy was engulfed in flames.

It was one of the things Harry had been working on the most. He was trying to get a feel for magical dragonfire. He could manipulate the flames, once Cuddles had generated them, and that led him to believe he could learn to cast them. He hadn't gotten anywhere with it yet but the lack of success was not deterring him from continuing, if anything, it increased his drive to make it work.

"Merde" He heard Fleur swear.

'_Stop.' _With no more fire being generated Harry reached with his magic and began to magically smother the flames. He didn't know if it worked like muggle fire retardants or whether it submitted to his strength of will, following his intent to end the flames.

"Merlin, Harry, where can I get a mini-dragon?" Cedric said, in awe of the display.

"You don't," he said seriously, "she's one of a kind." Harry reached out with his hand and let cuddles fly right into it. He sat down, depositing her in his lap, and let her curl up again. He quickly vanished the conjurations.

"If we claim an amplification spell, for the cause of the roar, and that the fires were caused by all of us, and Cuddles' collaborating with me, then it would explain it without giving away that I can increase her size. I'd like to keep that, and any other abilities, a secret as long as possible." Harry's cheeks were pinched as he spoke, he made eye contact with all of them briefly but most of his time was spent admiring Cuddles.

"You saved our lives. I will do as you ask." Krum stated matter of factly.

"Without you and Cuddles we'd be dead, I'll comply." Cedric had moved back towards his bed and was now just sitting on the edge of it, his arms crossed.

"All you'd need to do is ask." Fleur let him know, she gazed at him warmly.

"Thanks." Harry said to all of them.

"No. You saved us, this doesn't repay debt." Krum told him. "We fought together, bled together, we bonded, like brothers." He walked over to Harry with purpose in his stride, his posture hard and unyielding. When he got to Harry he extended his wand arm, his right one, his wand was not in his hand. Harry stood, his left hand putting Cuddles up on his shoulder as he stood. He glanced and Fleur and didn't miss the nod from her. Harry stuck out his arm and Viktor grabbed his forearm, a strong grip on his arm, Harry reciprocated.

"Brothers In Arms, from this day until my debt is repaid!" He proclaimed loudly. Harry felt a pulse of Krum's magic in his forearm. Like an Unbreakable Vow but without a bonder. Was this like a vow or?

Fleur had shifted her position so she was in his line of sight, she was trying to indicate something as Krum stared at him, awaiting a response. Harry met his hard eyes, "Brothers In Arms, I accept your pledge!" He called out loudly, trying to match the intensity Krum had done his in. He spoke the words Fleur had written in the air with her wand.

Viktor pulled him in for a hug, his free hand thumping Harry's back. He didn't say anymore, he went and sat back down on his bed.

Harry felt the magic in the rite they had just completed. He grasped that this was a significant thing but had no idea what it meant. Thankfully, Fleur understood and came over to tell him, she sat on the bed beside him, her body against his.

She leaned into him and whispered in his ear. "Brothers in arms is a pledge of honor; he is honor bound to aid you against your enemies."

"Is it common?" Harry didn't think it was but he wanted to be sure.

"It doesn't get used much now, in modern times. However, it has a long history in our world. If you call for help when fighting someone they _must_ answer your call for aid or the magic will mark them as an oathbreaker."

Harry berated himself, within his mind. He'd just made a binding promise. He'd leapt without looking again! He'd been curbing his Gryffindor behaviour but it wasn't fully successful. Playing the role the distraction and staying behind when he knew he could have escaped on his own. Now he'd just made a magically binding pledge without knowing the consequences.

"You didn't pledge anything but to accept his promise, don't fret." She squeezed his arm and then patted his leg.

"Thanks Fleur. As much as I've learned I still have so much to learn about our culture." He ducked his head and looked at the spots where he could feel Viktor's fading magic. He wondered if he would have noticed before he began to work so hard on magical sensing. He doubted it.

"Eh, Harry," Cedric said to him, to get Harry' attention, "I can't do that without my Dad's permission. I'm not sure if he'd agree to it. But if you ever need help let me know. You saved us, me more than once."

"We all worked together. I'm just glad we all made it out without permanent injury. Hopefully our hostages did too." He deflected the focus back to the hostages, away from praising him.

He didn't need to look at Fleur to see her scowl, he knew she'd want him to take more credit, as she'd previously explained.

"I won't make the pledge; our families are friends. There is no doubt we will support you." Harry nodded, accepting the explanation.

A lull in conversation occurred. Everyone had the pertinent information and they were kind of waiting to see what was next. Harry decided to finish his breakfast as he waited, making small talk to pass the time.

It was less than twenty minutes later when the tent flap opened. Harry recognized the Diggory's as they entered. Patrice Delacour came in next and a man Harry assumed was Krum's dad, or family member came in last.

Patrice quickly made his way over and hugged Fleur, she'd stood before embracing him in a massive hug. Harry could hear they were talking quietly in french to one another but didn't feel the need to intrude. Each of them were having their family moments.

Harry's chin dropped and he picked up Cuddles. He petted her lovingly as he waited for the father-daughter moment to pass. Tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes, this is what he wanted, this is what he was missing. A loving family. Each champion had parents they could turn to. Harry swallowed down the melancholy and centered himself. Morose thoughts wouldn't help him now.

"Harry, I'm so glad you're okay now. We were all so worried." Patrice extended his hand and Harry shook it.

"We are going to meet with Madame Bones and other officials now. You already have representation there. A Mister Ackerly of Ackerly Adwell and Associates, Cyrus Greengrass and Horace Slughorn are there waiting for you."

Harry slowly dipped his head. That must be his legal representation that Cyrus was hiring for the House of Black. They were to be retained and work on getting Sirius a trial. Hopefully they were good. Arcturus had used them and both of his current advisors had recommended they renew the relationship.

"Are you ready for this Harry, Fleur?"

"Oui, Papa." Fleur stood and offered her hand to pull him up off the bed.

"I suppose I am, it will be good to get this over with." Harry said as he joined the queue for those leaving the tent. Harry held his breath as he exited, hoping whatever mess was headed his way it wasn't worse than what he'd just been through in the forest. Somehow this felt just as ominous as heading into the acromantula lair.

Harry exited the tent and began his trek to the meeting place, following the Delacours, Krums and Diggorys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter reminded me of 'Sucks To Your Ass-Mar' everyone will be expecting the major fall out and here I am trolling you with a tease and some Harry x Fleur fluff. Awesome eh? I meant for this to be like 2-3k not 12K+! But I like it. I like that Bones is methodical and investigating before jumping to conclusions, this works better, for the fic, trolling is a bonus.
> 
> Thanks for reading, favoriting, following and reviewing! All the support is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Beta'd by Nauze. Thanks for the help!


	26. Moar Hospital Beds

The room had been transformed. This first floor classroom had been setup for the meeting, tables with comfortable chairs had replaced the shabby desks and chairs that were here prior to it. Madame Bones, and her staff, were at the front of the room with the rest of the occupants being arranged in a semicircle around them, requiring two tiers of seating to easily accommodate everyone. The parties involved in this meeting were all filtering back in.

The Champions had been brought in and were given an opportunity to meet with the parties that were already in the room. Harry had quickly greeted Patrice before he went to the table setup for him and his party. Slughorn, Ackerly and Greengrass were sitting there waiting for him. After a brief greeting, Madame Bones began the proceedings.

"I now call to order this debriefing of events. I have called a number of individuals to be here with the expectation that this informal briefing will inform the parties most affected by the tournament. While there will be more detailed hearings at a later date, with various institutions and individuals, I have gathered you all to go over what is _currently_ known." Madame Bones said, directing and moderating the meeting.

"When called, please stand to make yourself known while I introduce you." She first looked to the people who were at the front table with her.

"Rufus Scrimgeour, Head Auror for the Ministry of Magic." Bones called out and he stood. "Next to him we have Stacy Parent, our top investigator within the DMLE. Beside her, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Senior Auror." Both respective ministry employees stood when acknowledged.

"Keeping with the Ministry, we have Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, and Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary, with us as well." She left room between them so there was an appropriate gap. They were in the far corner of the room Harry noticed.

"Here as a Special Advisor to the Minister of Magic and representing Hogwarts Board of Governors is Lucius Malfoy. Further representing Hogwarts is Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Albus is also here in his official capacities as the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot." Though the man needed no introduction he stood anyways and looked at the other attendees congeniality.

Harry noted Malfoy was sitting right beside Fudge and at the end of the table adjacent to Dumbledore.

"Next we have Madame Maxime, representing Beauxbatons in her capacity as Headmistress." She didn't need to stand to be seen by everyone, though she did anyway. Bones continued, "From France, Guy Lafreniere, Deputy Minister of Magic." The bald man was tall, even if he didn't look it after being compared to the large woman beside him.

Harry sat and watched as each person got up in turn, his even came. Krum had the Bulgarian Minister of Magic sitting with him. France had their Deputy Minister, sitting with the Delacours, and there were multiple delegates from the ICW. With the three sitting with him, it was a busy room.

Harry noted with McGonagall's inclusion, Hogwarts had as many representatives here as Beauxbatons and Durmstrang combined. This was just one of a number of things he wondered about, specifically if they were designed to be that way or not.

"Now that introductions have been completed, allow me to inform you how things will proceed. I'll remind you, you are all here at our invitation." Though there was a pause here, nobody spoke up in the gap.

"Stacey Parent will give an overview of the events leading up to the task. Rufus Scrimgeour will then update us on what is known about the task and our actions since then. After they have both finished, _uninterrupted_, I will field questions. Beyond that, I will moderate any further discussion." The way she presented it, even to all the powerful people in the room, was impressive.

"Please begin Investigator Parent." Amelia instructed before she sat down.

Harry watched Stacy Parent put her wand to her throat; he assumed she was casting some form of voice amplification spell.

"As Director Bones has said, my name is Stacy Parent," her amplified voice began, "and I am the lead Investigator for the events preceding the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament." She glanced around the room and then continued in a firm voice.

"The objective of this discussion is to make you aware of pertinent facts. None of this information is to be released or discussed publicly until the DMLE has either authorized it or released the information to the public." She cast her grey-blue eyes around the room again.

"At 13:00 hours, February 23rd, the day prior to the Second Task, the DMLE became aware that the organizers planned to use hostages and the hostages had requested magically binding contracts to guarantee their safety before any of them would agree to participate." Stacy began to explain, only to be interrupted before she could continue.

"How was the DMLE informed, by a student perchance?" Albus Dumbledore asked. "Students aren't permitted to contact the DMLE except in cases of emerg-"

Whatever else he was going to say was cut off by Amelia Bones. "Albus," she growled, "no interruptions _meant_ no interruptions. We have other ICW representatives here, McGonagall for Hogwarts faculty and Malfoy for the Board of Governors, and a few options for the Wizengamot. Your presence is superfluous."

"You wish to walk this path, Amelia?" Dumbledore asked, his normal tact missing.

Amelia put her palms down flat on the table and pushed herself up, her upper body leaning forward a few inches. "It is not _my_ actions that will dictate things. Like everyone else, withhold questions until the end or be removed. This is a _voluntary_ briefing, and we are not obligated to do so." She upbraided.

No further words were exchanged between the two, Amelia sat down.

Stacy began speaking again, Harry thought, to avoid further issues between the two. "As I was saying," she stated louder than necessary, "the DMLE was informed and at 13:15 hours Director Amelia Bones arrived at Hogwarts with Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt and Auror Nymphadora Tonks. Upon their arrival, they worked with the Triwizard Tournament Organizing Committee." She paused and turned the page over.

"Igor Karkaroff, the Headmaster of Durmstrang, was already a party to a magical contract with the Pavlov family, guaranteeing that Natalia Pavlova would not come to _any_ harm. The penalty for breaching the term would be at the cost of his life."

A murmur grew around the room, comments were being made by many around the room, it was quickly hushed.

"Order, order!" Madame Bones glared at everyone around the room.

When she was successful in bringing silence back, Stacey continued her clinical delivery of facts. "Parents and guardians arrived for the perspective hostages. The guardians for Miss Chang and Gabrielle Delacour refused to allow participation of their underage charges without a similar magical contract, Mrs Krum, a legal adult, demanded the same."

"Following this, the organizers met and discussed terms and options. Madame Maxime refused to risk her magic and advocated for no usage of hostages. Igor Karkaroff advocated for hostage usage with stringent safety conditions. Albus Dumbledore spoke to the agreement with the Mermen and their word that they'd station security with the hostages and escort them back to shore. Under those terms, he was for the inclusion of hostages but he was also unwilling to risk his magic."

She paused for a moment, her voice was getting a little coarse. She drank conjured a glass, and some water, and drank from it quickly.

"Barty Crouch Sr outlined the position of the Ministry, supported by Ludovic Bagman, and they advocated for following Albus' recommendation, for safety. However, Crouch was set on using hostages. His reasoning was that it was a tradition of the tournament and should be continued. In the end ministry department heads were willing to guarantee a single hostage's safety."

Stacey Parent stopped and allowed her words to sink in. There was a lot of information given out and she allowed, Madame Bones too, murmured conversing.

Harry was told a bit of a different story by Daphne. She'd said Bagman had been bullied into it and Bones had told them, with no other option, that if they were putting others in harm's way their safety would be guaranteed by magical contract or the DMLE would step in and charge anyone involved with kidnapping, or accessory to it. Crouch had been adamant that the task must go as planned, irrationally so, Daphne had thought.

The official report must be politically correct. He had little reason to doubt Daphne's tale.

"This left the elder Krum without a guarantor. Karkaroff was willing to step into that role. With Director Bones and Chief Warlock Dumbledore presiding, the contracts were signed. This ended the necessity for DMLE presence regarding this issue."

Harry shifted in his seat. Objectively, nobody should really have any idea that he was the one that sabotaged the task. His cloak was perfect and he had left no evidence of his presence. He didn't even cast any magic. Bill and Natalia could verify he had been around the lake, if they'd found evidence of him being around there, nothing odd about a walk with a pretty girl.. He really didn't think Investigator Parent was about to reveal information that could lead to his incrimination but there was still a kernel of worry nagging at him.

"Senior Auror Gawain Robards presided over the security for the site of the Second Task. The DMLE had commissioned Gringotts to provide a temporary ward scheme over the Black Lake. William Weasley was the representative sent, a certified Warding Master. Operational security was maintained by Aurors Proudfoot and Savage."

"At 22:00 hours Robards was alerted to a foreign substance in the lake. William Weasley was ordered to check the integrity of the wards; Senior Auror Robards accompanied, and stayed with, Weasley for the duration of his work. Aurors Savage and Proudfoot continued to patrol and search for any signs of tampering. As of this meeting, no obvious sign of tampering have been verified. Further, the exact site of contamination has been narrowed down to a sixty meter length of shoreline, however, the-" Parent stopped abruptly and brought the paper closer to her face."

She looked embarrassed to have misread the report in front of all the people of importance assembled in the room but had pushed on as if she hadn't made a mistake. She continued professionally.

"At 23:00 hours an Unspeakable, from the Department of Mysteries, was summoned to assist the auror investigation, by Proudfoot and Savage, as they were unable to verify the substance and were unsuccessful in slowing, stopping, or removing the unknown substance from the Black Lake. According to the detailed analysis, the exact spot is unlikely to be confirmed, the prevailing theory is that there were multiple sites of contamination over that stretch of shoreline."

Harry noted there was a hand raised, Guy Lafreniere had his hand in the air, clearly hoping to ask a question. It brought a reserved smile to Harry's face. The Deputy Minister of Magic of France had his hand raised in a classroom like they were all little children in school.

"Again, no questions are permitted until the end." Madame Bones indicated with a slightly chiding tone. "Please continue Stacy."

With a bob of her head, acknowledging her superior, she began again. "The final aspect of my report is the conclusion of the investigation of the sabotage and the capture of the culprit."

Harry sat up straighter and leaned forward, surprise written all over his face, he wasn't the only one. They had captured the culprit? What poor bastard had taken the fall for his deeds? Guilt rose within him, had he caused an innocent person to be arrested? Was this just another example of Fudge ensuring the Ministry was 'seen doing something'?

Harry swiveled to get a look at where Fudge was sitting, flanked by Umbridge and Malfoy. He looked _furious_. His pudgy cheeks were all rosy, his eyes were narrowed and Harry could see his knuckles were white as he gripped the table. He could almost see the moment his anger boiled over.

"Captured the culprit?!" He yelled out in indignation. "Why was I not informed?! I'm the Minister of Magic!" He'd pushed back his chair as he stood, spittle flying out of his mouth as he spat out the words.

Harry chortled. The man was introduced as the Minister of Magic and Bones had already shut down Dumbledore. Did he hope she had a sudden phobia of bowler hats? Did he hope the pink monstrosity, that he was sitting beside, would blind her and make her lose her senses? Just because that Um-something woman had clear lost her fashion sense didn't mean it would affect Bones.

"_Sit down,_ Cornelius." Bones commanded. Though she appeared composed, it wasn't hard for Harry to see she was far less than what she portrayed.

"I will _not!I_ I am the _Minister_!" He was on his feet now and hIs face was dark red. His hat fell forward when he smashed his closed fist on the table when he told everyone, for a third time, what his job was.

Harry almost laughed. He knew Amelia Bones would have followed procedure. There was no way she orchestrated all of these people to be here to be chewed out by the minister. Fudge was just blustering hot air.

"What you _are_ is a person failing to comply with the rules set for this forum." Bones retorted, still keeping herself in control but Harry was wondering how long she'd be able to do that.

"What I believe our _esteemed_ Minister is trying to say is why, as your superior, was he not informed prior to this? Surely you'd inform your own boss before foreign dignitaries and mere schoolteachers." The smooth voice of Lucius Malfoy cut into the conversation.

The withering glare he received was not one Harry would want to be on the receiving end of. "The next person to speak prior to the end of Investigator Parent's report will be removed, without warning." She nodded to two of the aurors in the back; they stepped forward and pulled out their wands, keeping them pointed at the ground, the display not lost on anyone, they would remove someone, by force, if necessary.

"As Minister Fudge should have been aware of, an ongoing investigation is not to be interfered with by the Minister's office, nor anyone outside the DMLE. An interdepartmental memo _is_ sent when facts the Director of the DMLE believes are pertinent to the running of the Ministry are uncovered. A State of Emergency has just ended and a few of said memos have been sent to his office. If Cornelius had bothered to read them he would already be aware of the contents of _this_ _entire_ briefing."

How she kept the smug tone out of her voice Harry would never understand. Scrimgeour and Parent were not able to keep victorious looks off their face. She'd just shut down the minister. Fudge was rapidly losing color and had collapsed back into his chair.

Harry had only dealt with Fudge a few times but he could well imagine the kind of terrible toad of a boss he'd be. He certainly was not one who was eminently competent, let alone be a leader who inspired confidence in his underlings.

"Stacy, if you would. There will _not_ be further interruptions." Bones sat back in her chair and turned to look at her subordinate.

"After exhaustively checking on the integrity of the wards it was deemed they had not been breached."

A low furor broke out at that pronouncement.

"Senior Auror Robards ensured a verification of the claim was completed. William Weasley's competence was not in question, however, before taking into custody all those that were permitted entry through the wards, Robards deemed a third party verification was prudent."

Harry could see there was agreement from many around, nods and whispered words.

Investigator Parent continued, speaking loudly over the noise. "A representative from the Department of Mysteries was called. At 05:00 hours, on February 24th, the morning of the Second Task, William Weasley's earlier work was affirmed, the wards were not breached."

Harry made sure not to look at Fleur, he had no idea if she suspected him but he didn't want to look guilty or exchanging a knowing look with her. Under his cloak he _had_ breached the wards. It was interesting to note that two experts could not tell he had done so.

"William Weasley was requested to procure the names of those that he had been instructed to grant access through the wards to, both temporary and permanent. Aside from himself, tournament organizers Barty Crouch Sr and Ludovic Bagman had permission to enter at any time. Albus Dumbledore had been granted temporary permission along with Retired Master Auror Alastor Moody."

"At 07:00 hours, Senior Auror Gawain Robards returned to the Ministry to debrief Director Bones in person. Aurors Savage and Proudfoot were instructed to keep William Weasley confined after having removed access through the wards for all parties excluding himself and the three man auror team."

"Upon the DMLE being briefed, Head Auror Scrimgeour was called in to take over the leading role in the investigations. Further, Senior Auror Shacklebolt and Auror Tonks were called in to assist, totalling six active duty aurors.

She paused and took another sip of water, after exchanging glances with Rufus.

"Upon arrival, Scrimgeour made the call to interview each person with permission through the wards, starting with the least likely suspects. Aurors Proudfoot, Savage and Robards all voluntarily submitted to questioning. William Weasley agreed to partake as well and after questioning all were cleared of suspicion."

Stacy Parent took a deep breath and looked at her boss before she continued. Nothing was noticeable exchanged but she seemed to take something from it, Harry thought. She squared herself and the began.

"Flanked by two more aurors, Shacklebolt and Tonks, Scrimgeour went to question Retired Master Auror Alastor Moody, this was a 06:00 hours. A detailed report is not being given at this time, however, the result of their… encounter… was the discovery of an imposter."

The effects of those words rippled through the room. Moody had quite the reputation. Finding out he had been impersonated would be like hearing the original Moon landing was faked. It just wasn't possible.

Rumblings grew around the room as, not so whispered, conversations were breaking out.

Within a few seconds of the decibel level rapidly climbing, a loud bang interrupted the rumblings, bringing everyone's attention to the caster of the noise. Harry's wand had flown into his hand when the noise went off and he noted he wasn't the only one.

Amelia Bones had shot off the spell. She stood tall at the front, her commanding presence bringing silence to the room. "Please continue, Stacy." She glowered at everyone, no further noises were heard.

"The imposter resisted arrest and took his own life. With the culprit captured, the identity was confirmed. The impersonator was Barty Crouch Jr." Stacy enunciated slow and clear, making sure she could not be misunderstood.

"Impossible" He heard Slughorn breathe out. "He's dead."

Madame Bones stood up with her wand out, once again, keeping further reactions from being shared.

"It is sufficient to know that the identity was confirmed, twice over. Alastor Moody was recovered and is currently being cared for in the DMLE medical area. His testimony has confirmed he was captured and impersonated the entire school year."

Wow. Harry had no idea how to respond to this. He just kind of sat there, his jaw lowered with muted shock. Who was the man though?

"Who was he?" Harry asked Slughorn, his hand covering his mouth. He hoped he didn't raise the ire of Madame Bones. His confidence to ask came from the fact he was not the only one discussing this, though none louder than a whisper.

"Crouch Senior's son. A Death Eater who was supposed to have died in Azkaban." Slughorn replied quickly, doing his best to keep his voice low.

A Death Eater?! That was the second follower of Voldemort to teach him in two years! Quirrell in first year, a total fraud in second year, Remus in third year, and another actual escapee Death Eater. No wonder this year went tits up!

"As Alastor Moody was assigned the job of investigating, by the Tournament Organizing Committee, who had entered Harry Potter into the tournament, under a fourth school, it is our belief that he was the perpetrator. Further, It is probable he sabotaged the first two tasks as well, though with his death we lack a confession and lack any form of concrete proof."

Harry was barely keeping from bouncing in his seat! He could easily bound over to Fleur, pick her up, twirling her in a circle, and then kiss her like there was no tomorrow!

What a stroke of luck!

The actual sabotage, that he had done, was going to be laid at the feet of a dead man who could not corroborate his innocence or guilt. For all Harry knew the man had been trying to get him killed in the tournament. He'd not feel _any_ guilt for this. Merlin, what a mess!

"Although the case is still active, those are the relevant details to the tournament, prior to the Second Task." Stacy finished up, looking relieved to be finished.

Harry glanced over to Dumbledore, for the first time since the meeting had begun he looked stricken, ashen even. His normally twinkling eyes were dull, an odd sight to Harry. Dumbledore had allowed _another_ of Riddle's supporters to interact and teach children!

Director Bones stood up now. "We will _not_ take questions yet. Please allow our Head Auror, Rufus Scrimgeour, to bring you all up to speed on the events of the Second Task first."

Honestly Harry felt like he could use a break. His heart rate had been so erratic and his stomach had been doing flips in his gut. What else could they reveal? Was this going to be more normal?

The tawny haired man stood as he spoke. "My report covers from the decision to change the first task until now." He growled out and then picked the papers in front of him.

The DMLE had obviously prepared the talking points. Harry wondered how the internal ministry politics would be affected by this. This was quite the tour de force by Bones. The other two up here were in her inner circle, assuming that his assumption of this was correct by her off-the-record meeting with him.

"We will begin with the discussion with the Tournament Organizing Committee. It was determined that the Black Lake had an unknown substance in it. This caused it to be pitch black. While there are experts looking into the exact potion, it was clear, at the time, the Lake was unsafe as it had an unknown substance within it. The decision was made, with DMLE support, that it would not risk anyone safety by allowing anyone to go into the lake itself."

"The resulting decision brought forward the secondary plan. Due to the First Task being sabotaged, the organizing schools, in conjunction with the MInistry representatives, came up with a backup task in case it was necessary. The Forbidden Forest was the only other suitable site nearby. The only unsuitable danger were the acromantula lair and a den of trolls."

Harry exchanged a look with Fleur and Cedric. That would not have been fun. Harry had seen trolls in his first year. They'd been lucky to live through it. He doubted this would have fared so easily. His piercing spell may not have been of much use.

Harry focused back on the fierce looking auror. "An agreement was reached, ensuring they would protect the hostages, from any other predators, and not permanently harm them. Albus Dumbledore brokered the arrangement with the help of an intermediary, Rubeus Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures Professor."

A few loud foreign words were shouted out. Harry didn't understand whatever words were said but they sounded angry and were probably in French and Bulgarian, there had been a few voices.

"Enough." Scrimgeour growled loudly, causing everyone to shut their mouths and pay attention again.

Harry had to cover his face with his hand, he couldn't help but snicker at all these people being intimidated by this man. The scene was reminiscent of schoolchildren being reprimanded by their adult teacher.

"The DMLE position was to simplify the task, not involve hostages, and score each champion equally. From the ensuing discussion, it is believed Barty Crouch Sr and Igor Karkaroff were either under the Imperius Curse or being coerced into ensuring the Second Task continued on. Ludovic Bagman is a part of an ongoing investigation that leads us to believe there may have been external stakeholders influencing his decision-making regarding the tournament. With all three of the deceased individuals being compromised, they held a vote and by a three to two majority it was decided to move the task to the forest while still using hostages. Madame Maxime and Albus Dumbledore voted to follow the DMLE suggestion."

Rufus stopped here. He collected himself, flipped the page and then continued. "The champions all returned with various degrees of injuries and in a state of exhaustion. While they were in the medical tent recovering, we did not ask them to relive their experiences and we are not asking any of you to speak up now."

Harry felt relieved at that. They hadn't said he would be questioned or deposed but he'd worried it would happen. After every near death experience he'd been through at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had questioned him on what happened as soon as he could. It was odd to not be interrogated for doing something heroic.

"Based on our investigation, we were aware all four hostages had been taken into the heart of the acromantula colony. They were strung up, feet up and head down, wrapped tightly in webbing and injected with a paralytic agent. All four hostages are in stable condition and the latest medical report indicates they should wake once the paralytic has run its course."

Harry could feel some tension leave the room. None of the champions had a chance to see the hostages yet. Harry had thought, based on what Pomfrey had said, that they would have been given an opportunity to see them if it was dire. Having heard their status, he now understood why they had not been escorted there already.

"The four champions worked collaboratively to portkey their hostages out and then to defend themselves. Extensive damage was done to the forest, during the altercation, with magical fires blazing on for hours. The exact number of spiders that were killed is unknown. Most of the bodies were burned making an accurate count impossible."

Harry had no idea how many he'd killed. The memory was a blur to him. He would take time to review his actions and seek guidance for what he could have done better. Now was not the time to think on that though, he should be paying attention.

"During this altercation a State of Emergency was initiated by Director Amelia Bones. Between the death of an escaped Death Eater, the contract enacting the terms on two Department Heads of the Ministry of Magic and the Headmaster of Durmstrang, the decision was deemed necessary. A call for all offduty Hit Wizards, Aurors and DMLE personnel went out, a call that has only been used once since the death of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The other time being the escape of the notorious, and still at large, Sirius Black."

Harry thought Sirius would get a real kick out of that, being called notorious. He spared a glance at Dumbledore but the man wasn't looking at him. They were among the few that knew Sirius was actually innocent.

"Fearing the Goblet of Fire may react poorly to interference, DMLE staff were ordered to not enter into the forest while the task was ongoing. However, Hit Wizards and Aurors set a perimeter around the staff and students. Orders were given that nobody was to be allowed to enter or exit the premises. While awaiting the return of the champions the DMLE forces were sorted into teams. Immediately after all four emerged, an advanced team, led by Stacy Parent, were sent in to investigate. Two other teams followed in support, totaling fifteen wands.

"In summary, they located the battleground and reported back that they had been assaulted by no less than twenty acromantula. Fearing a whole colony could attack the school, new orders were given. All forces on standby were commanded to enter the forest and remove any threats they found. Under no circumstances were they to engage Centaurs, nor were they to enter their lands."

He put the papers down in front of him and looked over the crowd. "It is with great pride I am able to report that all teams returned successfully, without permanent harm, after carrying out their orders."

Rufus gave a small bow and sat down.

Amelia stood up. "We will take questions, one at a time. Raise your hand and I will call upon you. I remind you all that there are active investigations ongoing and we will not compromise them."

Harry wasn't surprised when a plethora of hands shot up.

"Miss Delacour" Amelia called out, allowing Fleur to ask the first question.

"When can we visit the 'ostages and what expectations do you 'ave of the champions?" Harry couldn't help but smile softly. Fleur asked about her sister first, herself next. He knew those were the priorities for her. She'd put Gabrielle's safety before her own everytime.

"You are able to visit the hostages right after this, a DMLE member will escort you, and any others approved may visit. As for the champions, we would like a recounting of your experience but it is not necessary. You all participated in the task and are fully healthy. The concerns around the task are not with yourselves." She gave a compassionate look to the young veela.

"Merci Madame." Fleur said and she sat back down.

It was nice to know, for Harry, that they didn't even need an interview. Really, it made sense, there was nothing criminal done. They'd survived in the forest and did as they were instructed, retrieve the hostage and make it out alive.

Harry missed who was chosen to speak next, not that it mattered. "What is the fate of the Tournament Organizing Committee? With just Maxime and Albus, I trust Durmstrang will be represented too, what will be its fate? Will the tournament continue?"

"That is not a question I can answer. The DMLE will be involved in _all_ future security discussions. The Tournament Organizing Committee was arranged between all three ministries, the schools, and the ICW. I imagine a new committee will need to be selected and worked out. My understanding is that a Third Task is required to be completed by the Triwizard Champions."

"Allow me to interject, Guy, Amelia." Dumbledore broke in. "I'd suggest a meeting with the following: the headmaster and a member from each board of governors from each school, the ICW delegate for each country and a representative from each Ministry involved. A meeting should be convened next week. At such a time, we can sort out the details for concluding the tournament." He smiled at everyone with aplomb. His voice, and mere presence, radiating calmness and a sense of surety that everything would be alright.

Harry dropped his chin and shook his head. The headmaster was a skilled politician. Harry didn't really know what to say about him. Obviously he'd been a part of the debacle but he'd actually voted against the change. At the same time, it was on his word that they'd worked out a deal with the acromantula.

Then again, if Crouch Jr was controlling two of the others…

Harry didn't know what to think. The whole thing was a mess.

"Are there going to be any arrests for having a foreign and restricted dark creature inhabiting the forest, a whole colony of them?"

Harry looked over to see who had asked it but missed, it sounded slimy, and thus he assumed it would be Malfoy.

"No. Hogwarts' long ago negotiated exclusive rights to house magical animals in the Forbidden Forest. Dumbledore has already claimed they were there with his knowledge. As the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the decision on whether to allow acromantula in the forest was under his purview. However, when they became a threat to our citizens... We were able to step in and deal with it appropriately. You will not find an arachnid in there, they were completely culled."

"Not even as an accessory for murder?" A sickly sweet voice broke in, the horrifyingly pink clad woman simpered.

"For what?" Investigator Parent scoffed, relieving Amelia Bones from having to respond. "They all _chose_ to make the vow. The only ones that voted to go forward with uses of hostages are dead."

Even with that argument, the woman didn't give up. "It's just a _coincidence_ that an old _pureblood_ political rival of the Chief Warlock dies after he arranged an agreement with the disgusting vermin, two other purebloods as well?"

Just looking at the woman was going to give Harry a headache. Her sickly sweet voice grated on his nerves and the fluorescence given off her outfit could give someone a sunburn!

"I'm sorry, is the Undersecretary of the Minister of Magic accusing the Chief Warlock of sabotaging a tournament to kill three people, mere minutes after it was explained an escaped Death Deater was the culprit?" The incredulity in her tone was matched by how dismissively she was treating Umbridge.

Harry turned away as the stupid woman continued to argue her point. "So what's really going on?" Harry asked Slughorn.

"Ministry politics." Slughorn informed him succinctly. "The DMLE is almost autonomous. There are some things that require the Minister to sign off on, but," he shrugged, "it's mostly the fiefdom of the Director of the DMLE. For that matter, most Department Heads have their own personal fiefdoms."

He casually pointed towards Fudge. "He's a stooge, propped up by a powerful pureblood bloc in the Wizengamot. Malfoy leads the coalition and uses their influence well. What you are seeing here is Amelia flexing her muscles. The Wizengamot has limited the DMLE budget for years. They've worked to strip it's power because of how Barty Crouch Sr wielded it. With emergency powers he was a tyrant. He fought Riddle as much as he worked to consolidate power within the Ministry. Bones has been taking the blowback from Crouch's days."

"I see… So how is she flexing here then?" Harry asked, half listening to a question by the Minister's group that was essentially just bickering with the DMLE staff.

"She declared an emergency. It gives her executive powers to deal with the situation as she sees fit, more or less. She mobilized what is the wizarding version of the armed forces and had them undergo a large scale operation. Meanwhile, Amelia shut down Hogwarts, took all the ministry security staff, and two fiefdoms lose their king." The way he said it so matter of factly caught Harry's attention.

Slughorn was barely paying attention as he answered Hary's questions. Harry thought he was analyzing and listening to what was, and wasn't being said. The breakdown being given was like rattling off answers to simple addition questions, mindless and requiring minimal brain power.

Cyrus leaned over now, "That's just domestically. Internationally, she has embarrassed the minister in front of two foreign ministries and word of this will go through the ICW. This wasn't just a shot across the bow, this was a direct hit. The minister is taking on water, he's running the bilge pumps and I doubt he'll bail out of this mess faster than he sinks. Not with how this year has gone. Not even Malfoy's bloc can save him. Look at the snake already distancing himself."

Harry looked back and saw Malfoy had gotten up from the Minister's table and was standing by the wall now.

"What else are you referring to this year?" Harry wasn't sure if they meant internal ministry politics or if it was possibly something from the Wizengamot.

"Under his leadership, the World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament have been hosted within our borders. Two prestigious tournaments with the eyes of the greater worldwide wizarding community being focused on us. Both events have been a fiasco and the Wizengamot won't stand for it." Cyrus kept his hand partially covering his mouth, ensuring that his words targeted Harry and were kept away from carrying elsewhere.

"Yes, she's pretty much launching a coup, Scrimgeour to Director and Parent to Head Auror I'd imagine. Rufus and Amelia have long been allies, bringing in Parent assures them continued control over the DMLE. With Crouch dead and Bagnold retired, there won't be anyone able to run against her, not with how well she will come off from this. Fudge will more than likely resign, he'll cut a deal to be allowed a quiet retirement instead of being arraigned in ceaselessly."

Harry marveled at their acumen. He'd seen this as actual law enforcement business. He had not considered the nuances of the ministry politics. He didn't, and could not have, missed the way Bones and her staff had embarrassed the Minister and his entourage.

"We'll need to meet and discuss plans. We have the legal approach planned for Sirius. We should be briefed on what went on in the forest as well." Cyrus told him.

"Yeah… we certainly do." Harry muttered, thinking of what Viktor had done, what Fleur had told him and he figured he'd need to inform them on Cuddles now.

Harry zoned out. Between his two advisors, and the lawyer, he was more than covered if something was going on. He was more thinking about how he'd needed to talk with Bones again. If she was going to become the minister it would be helpful if she was proactive and on his side. It could be downright disastrous if she wasn't with him. The comment on Crouch earlier had caught his attention too.

Crouch Senior had been the Director of the DMLE. His son had been a Death Eater. That couldn't have been good for the security. With spies in well placed positions, the Death Eaters were well informed.

From what he had come to understand, Riddle was winning. It had looked inevitable. It was a quirk of magic, or a brilliant move from his mother, that led to the man's downfall. They didn't even know he had horcruxes… They were doomed.

It would make more sense why a terrorist movement was so successful, the ministry was embroiled in a power struggle and Dumbledore's vigilante's were using defensive tactics and non-lethal spells. If Dumbledore and the entire Ministry had acted in unison, with good security measures, Riddle and his forces would have been stopped before they had really gotten started.

Harry wasn't sure if he was some crazy conspiracy theorist or not. He was actually wondering how many ministry employees purposefully helped the terrorists, not because they believed in the pureblood dogma, but because they were using the conflict as an excuse for their own benefit.

Harry focused back on the conversation. It sounded, to him, like the various ministries were being catty with one another. He saw tempers rising, he heard voices get raised and decided he didn't need to pay attention. He had secured two people, with unbreakable loyalty, to deal with this. He was fourteen, not twenty-four, or even thirty-four. At some point he'd have to know everything about politics but he thought that was the most prudent use of his time currently. Staying alive seemed more pressing.

He'd be happy bumbling around in the political and economic worlds as long as he was alive to do so!

He'd almost _died_ yesterday!

He took two hits that should have killed him!

All his training, all of the astounding magical progress he'd made and it _still wasn't enough_.

That reality really bothered Harry, to the point that he couldn't keep it out of his mind.

He was sure he could take any of the champions in a duel. He could keep up such a barrage that they couldn't handle him, they couldn't keep pace, and couldn't dodge like him while continuously firing off spells with amazing accuracy. But all that skill, all the hard work and it would all have been for _nothing_ if he wasn't wearing his armor, _he would be_ _dead!_

The Potter name would be dead.

The Black name would be claimed by Draco and his descendants.

He'd have failed his forefathers. He'd have failed his grandmother and her brother. It couldn't come to that. He _wouldn't_ let it. He had to get better.

He felt like a child. He'd crush all the competition in a controlled environment, he could ace exams, or out duel all his peers. But in the real world? Where shit happens and you have to take it as it comes? He wasn't good enough, not then.

It left a startling conclusion: he was a child playing at war.

He'd fought monsters, he'd played the hero, and good would always triumph over evil! With determination and a good heart how could he fail?! Princesses pursued him, the valorous prince! How could anyone stop his rising stardom?! Surely that was enough to carry him on to victory over all foes and circumstances, right?!

It wasn't lost on Harry just who had given him the advice to wear dragonhide armor. Cyrus and Horace had demanded he wear it. If he'd shown up like the other champions, with regular clothing and a wand, the fairy tale would have been a tragedy.

Harry's fists were clenched, his nails digging into his palms, almost drawing blood. His heart rate was sky high. He had to calm down. Getting all worked up wouldn't help. He needed to plan, to learn.

He closed his eyes and took three deep calming breaths, un, deux, trois.

Opening his eyelids he cast his gaze around the room, looking to see what was going on now. More discussion, more bickering.

"Anything worth noting?" He asked loud enough for Cyrus and Slughorn to hear.

"Nothing that is overly concerning for you." Cyrus said absently, he turned back into what was going on after answering.

"Are you alright, my boy? I was rather worried. Acromantula have a dangerous reputation for a reason, their venom though… worth quite the sum… You didn't get any, did you?"

Harry turned his head, both his eyebrows had shot towards his hairline. "No. I was too busy killing the arseholes." Harry said, incredulous that Slughorn would ask the second part.

"Pity, pity… such a pity…" He muttered as he turned away from Harry.

The other man with their party, that he'd been introduced to, but hadn't really had a chance to talk to, was his focus now. "Mister Ackerly?" Harry tried to get his attention.

"Arvid to you, Harry, if that's not too presumptuous of me." He said kindly, Harry had the distinct impression one ear was listening to him and the other was working in conjunction with his eyes to take in everything else in the room. "Is there something I can do for you, my client?"

"Yes, I wanted to ask about my godfather's status. They'd said you had something planned?" Harry felt a little giddy. It would be nice to have his godfather as a free man. He could actually go out with the man. On reflection, that might not be the greatest. Harry shuddered imagining the teasing he'd get if Sirius heard he shared a bed with Fleur Delacour when the two were clad in only a thin hospital gown.

Bad idea, thinking of Fleur like that wouldn't lead him to paying attention. Stop now or get lost down that rabbit hole, for some time.

"We do. We've found precedents from the eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth centuries. All cases resolving issues with the Ministry of Magic and unlawful detainment of family. It's really just a matter of time, effort, and paperwork. Rest assured, he will be a free man." The man gave him a kind smile. "Was there anything else?"

"No, not really, I was just curious if you were here for any other reason." Harry eyed him curiously.

"I was asked to be here and so I came. With the Ministry presence here, your Steward had good forethought. I might not even charge full rate, this is some entertaining and useful information." He grinned, the type of grin Harry had a hard time placing. He seemed like the kind of man that is calm, confident, and laid back. That was until you provoked him, or he got worked up. When his temper flared, the gloves would come off and, he'd let you have it, but that didn't necessarily mean yelling or straightforward confrontation. Arvid Ackerly seemed to be the kind of man that was calculating. He'd plan fifteen moves ahead and gleefully watch as you moved towards your downfall. The grin was unsettling because it reminded Harry of a plotting spider, gleefully watching it's prey plod along to its demise.

Harry nodded and wondered if this was going to wrap up soon. He'd like to go see Natalia and Gabrielle. He'd need more food and some time by himself in the Chamber. It would be nice, letting him decompress, feel safe, and have time to process this giant mess.

At some point they had to stop all this bickering, right?

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Visiting Natalia was very anticlimactic. Here she was lying in bed, wrapped up in a blanket, sleeping. Her body was unresponsive. They didn't believe she would be awake anytime soon, none of the hostages were expected to wake soon.

He was sitting in a chair, at her beside, holding her hand. He didn't let it go when he saw the door opening.

Ivan Pavlov, Natalia's father, slowly made his way into the room.

Harry sat back, he hadn't seen this man since the dinner at their family home with Natalia.

Harry was sitting near the top of the hospital bed, to the right of it, near Natalia's head. Ivan levitated the other chair to the foot of the bed. When it was where he had wanted it he asked Harry, "Mind if I cast some privacy charms?"

"No, but only if I add my own." Harry didn't trust the man's charms, he wouldn't really trust anyone else's, this is not particular to Ivan. He wasn't going to check if the man's charms really did keep it private when he could ensure it did.

Ivan nodded decisively, "Sensible." He commented.

After both had cast their spells, Ivan sat down heavily. They sat in silence for more than a minute before the elder man spoke. "Do you know why we _really_ supported Grindelwald?" He asked, after a time.

Harry's eyes widened, whatever he had been expecting it was not this question.

"Erm… not really." He recalled them saying it was for returning home, he wouldn't have forgotten that so this would be something more. The thought hadn't really crossed his mind. They'd been Grindelwald supporters, they had done what they had said, he hadn't really questioned why.

"Once, we were not too unlike the Potters." He led with that provocative statement but Harry wanted an explanation before he'd reply to that.

"We were always well to do, every few generations an exceptional talent would appear, like your family."

It wasn't the statement of fact but the man's casual demeanor that was throwing Harry for a loop. This entire encounter seemed odd, so far. Where was his wife and his children? Had they already visited? Had the man known he was already here? Harry doubted the man would act against him in a hospital. Did he blame Harry for his daughter having to be hospitalized? What was this?!

"The Pavlov name, at one time, was one that stood for philanthropy and crusading for purposes that bettered the plight of the poor."

Harry nodded slowly, acknowledging the statement but not seeing the full picture. It was interesting to learn about. But, how it related to his daughter being paralyzed, Harry didn't know.

"Your family has never kept the resources it could have; they tried to set an example for the elite among the wizarding world. They fought tyranny and worked for the betterment of those who needed it. Most recently, your grandparent's aiding the ICW against Grindelwald and your parents against the tyranny of the British Dark Lord."

This was information he was well aware of. It wasn't hidden family history.

Initially, after being emancipated, Harry had been upset to find that there was very limited portraits for his Potter ancestors. The family just didn't believe in sitting for portraits. Each Potter was their own person, they shouldn't be a caricature of those that came before them. Potters were their own people, they stood for what they believed in and were responsible for making themselves into something great. They were to find their own way to add to the Potter legacy.

Now, this isn't to say they didn't leave resources. There was a book of Potter. A book that he had been failing to spend significant time studying. Each Head of House had added to it; he really needed to dedicate more time to it. It was just hard to prioritize it when there were so many other pressing issues, ones that shaped his immediate future and prepared him to survive the tournament. Neglecting those felt wrong, and given his results in the second task, he thought he'd had the correct priorities.

"But that was more than a century ago… You know of our... current reputation." The man wasn't outwardly bothered by his family's less than stellar reputation.

Harry nodded. Viktor's warning, at the Yule Ball, had not been wild exaggeration. It was known that you don't cross the Pavlov family. They'd have no qualms about using less than legal ways to sort out issues. Both Horace and Cyrus had warned him about the family.

"I tell you this because I know what has caused this." He gestured to Natalia's current condition lazily with his wand arm.

Harry fought down the urge to gulp. She was here because she was around Harry. It wasn't even a theory anymore, a Death Eater had forced his participation and had been actively trying to have him killed. Natalia got caught up in a bad situation because she went to the Yule Ball with him.

"I tell you this so that you can learn a lesson, one my family learned the hard way." Harry found Ivan's demeanor to be weird. He was almost being... fatherly, like he was distraught over Natalia's condition and was trying to help the young man she was enamoured with. He could see it from Patrice Delacour, perhaps even Cyrus, because of his oath, but he hadn't seen this coming from Ivan Pavlov.

"We could have fought, we could have kept the Tsar in power. We could have fought the muggle revolution. It would have been bloody, ugly. My forebears, and the Russian magicals generally, did not have the stomach to put down the revolution. Instead of butchering thousands in the streets, they fled. They lost their land, their businesses, history, and great wealth." He said the last half in disgust.

It sounded like a noble thing, there was a revolution, the monarch was removed from power, and instead of repressing the people, instead of stamping it out, they left. It sounded moral.

"Instead of thousands dying, _millions_ lost their lives due to their decision. _Millions_ perished in the Povolzhye famine; one caused by the uprising and the loss of our herbology expertise. Leading into the Grindelwald War, Stalin purged millions, by execution and penal colonies."

The room was already solemn, due to Natalia's condition. However, the air grew heavier as the conversation grew darker.

"Natalia is here because a follower of the last Dark Lord was not put down. She is here because _Dumbledore_," he growled the name," and your _ministry_," he spat out the word like it was a curse," decided they didn't want to dirty their hands, at the end of the last war." Harry could hear the anger leaking into his voice.

"My daughter… conflict comes easy, between us. She is strong willed and stubborn… We disagree on much. But she is my daughter." He had a face of fierce determination on as he stared at his unmoving daughter.

"If she comes to harm... a _price_ will be exacted... Karkaroff already paid his.. We are discussing if further _demonstration_ is required."

The casual manner in which he drawled the words gave Harry goosebumps. Harry wasn't sure if that was supposed to be directed at him as well. Indirectly threatened, for sure, but directly, Harry didn't think so.

"You were targeted, what kind of message will you send?" Ivan challenged him, piercing him with a questioning gaze.

"Crouch Jr is dead." Harry replied bluntly. "What more would you have me do?" He questioned with furrowed eyebrows.

Ivan chuckled darkly. "And if we believed this was an attempt solely perpetrated by him, we would not be considering sending a message. We both know he was a pawn, don't play the fool with me, boy." The Pavlov patriarch glowered at him, ever since Harry's previous response.

"Think! What message do you send by sitting by idly while your enemies act against you?" The man's frustration with him gone before he asked the follow-up query.

The question hung between them. Harry didn't respond, he thought about Ivan's words in silence.

"Learn to do what is _necessary_. My forebears would have been reviled for killing thousands of muggle revolutionaries. And yet, if they'd made that difficult decision, to decisively end their enemies, how many would have been saved?" He kept quiet for a moment, Harry did as well, considering the man's words.

"A terrorist group launched a revolution within these very shores. Those that supported it have murdered in the name of their beliefs and they will do so again. They have attacked and targeted you. What will you do? Will you flee, will you strike back?"

"Learn from us, russians. A revolution was launched within these shores. It took millions of deaths to fix my forebears mistake. Instead of putting down the insurgents, we had to be exiled for decades, we had to betray our morals and work with a Dark Lord. Even after Russia regained its magical population we still had to fight to regain our old positions and neuter the muggle influence in our community." He paused after recounting their shameful actions, ones he seemed abject about.

"You're in a tight spot. Two families to bring back to prominence. You've gathered advisors and have some allies. I know you didn't sign the contract. You should though. We are willing to do what is _necessary_. My daughter will be happy with you and be a good wife. She can provide enough heirs to secure a family's line. Talk to your advisors."

He stood and walked to the door. With his hand on the handle, he turned to Harry and added one last thing before departing. "We won't wait forever and neither will your enemies."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is the first non-cross post AN for AO3 specifically. I was suggested to put my fic up here and so I have. This is current now and all future updates will be posted to both.
> 
> Thanks to Nauze for the beta work. Chapter 1 was reposted 9/22 and Nauze beta'd Chapter 2, it's reposted now too.
> 
> Thanks for all the reviews, follows, favorites and messages! The great support is appreciated.


	27. Is Five A Magical Number?

Harry's personal 'To do' list was growing with almost every free moment he had to think. After meeting with the hostages, the Triwizard Champions were informed that they _still_ had to do a press conference. The DMLE would be moderating it and would be giving an overview of events. Still, Harry thought it was a gut punch. After all that they'd just been through, he had obligations to the media now?

He wasn't pleased with this turn of events. He wanted to meet with his advisors and spend _a lot _of time thinking of what he should do _now_.

Things were shifting, he just had some heavy moments with Fleur, the taste of her lips was smeared in his memory. Then he felt kind of horrible for not being able to stop thinking about it as he visited Natalia at St Mungo's. When he was just by himself, with the unconscious Natalia, her father had actually come in to drop some interesting history in preface to the advice he wanted to impart. The whole thing had confused him.

What was the angle he was trying to play with this advice? Was that a heartfelt, fatherly advice, type thing because he was emotional with his daughter having been hurt? Was the story correct and accurate? He'd need time to really let his mind work on the issue, which was why he was so annoyed with this turn of events.

Harry followed the other champions up to the podium. He sat down and looked over the sea of reporters. If it was possible, which he didn't think was, there was even more media here than last time. Harry watched as the press conference began.

"Today's press conference, for the Second Task, is being moderately differently. The DMLE has already released a number of statements and any questions we feel are in appropriate will not be answered."

Harry was quite amused to see it was Rufus Scrimgeour that was moderating the post-task press conference this time. His style was a far cry away from Bagman's. The man was dour faced and not giving off any sort of showmanship. The fierce looking man was scowling at the reporters.

"Queue up in an orderly fashion. A single question is permitted to be asked, a follow up question at my discretion. No bombarding a single champion with questions. If you all do not respect that I will not allow further questions for the champion." He paused and caught Harry's eye. They exchanged a short nod, Harry was thankful he was moderating this. He'd keep it orderly, that was for sure.

"Please state your name, who you are affiliated with and then name the person you are addressing. The organizing committee is currently indisposed. Direct your questions to Director Bones, of the DMLE, if you have questions not specific to the champions."

"Boris Gelding, Bulgarian Bugle, and my question is for Viktor Krum." He turned his gaze on Krum, "Viktor, can you tell us what went on in the task from your perspective."

Harry almost chortled. Harry thought the Bulgarian quidditch phenom was, by far, the worst option to be asked, Krum was a man of few words.

"We were to save hostages. The spiders took them. Potter went in to distract and negotiate; Diggory snuck in under Potter's cloak. Hostages were saved, then we fight for our lives."

Harry really wanted to smirk. That was the most limited overview he could have imagined that still got the salient points across.

Harry ducked his head and, in doing so, missed whatever exchange that allowed Boris to ask another question.

"Worse than World Cup. Couldn't move one side. Should have died; Potter saved."

Harry was caught in the spotlight of everyone's attention turning to him, after Krum's words. He sat there a bit like a deer in a car's headlights. Suddenly all the attention was on him.

"Next." Scrimgeour said, after stepping forward a half step, drawing attention to himself.

"Barbara Smith, New York Wizarding Times, and my question is for Cedric Diggory." Harry remembered her asking questions, and if memory served him correctly, the first two reporters were the same two asking questions, thankfully neither for Harry, this time.

"Mr Diggory, can you describe and take us through your rescue of the hostages." Barbara stepped back and was ready for more note taking.

"Well, Harry lent me his invisibility cloak. He went in… alone." He glanced at Harry before continuing to answer, "I don't know how he did that. He'd been there before; he knew what we were walking into." He shook his head, his eyes glazed over slightly as he did so.

"He walked in and talked to the leader. While that was going on, I moved in as slowly and quietly as I could. I kept searching for them but it took me a minute to locate them. Four sacs were dangling from only Merlin knows how high. I had the four portkeys which would only work for the hostages, though not for us, unfortunately."

He paused and swallowed. "I- I d- d-didn't know what to do. They were so still I thought them dead. I knew I'd have to c- cut them down, at least to return the bodies if they weren't alive still." He brought his fist up to his mouth and couched, clearing his throat.

"I setup the portkeys," his voice had regained its normal strength, "so they'd fall down onto them. They were touch activated, we were told, I just had to get them to fall onto them. I cast cushioning charms and then backed away to get the correct angle to cut them all down at once. It was then that I noticed the problem."

Harry had figured out the gist of what had gone on but wasn't aware of any sort of problem. Cedric had had perfect timing. What had he missed when dealing with Aragog? He noticed everyone assembled, including the other champions, were silent and intently following Cedric's words.

"Above each hostage, maybe six feet above each sac, there was an acromantula. If I cast a spell, to cut them down, they might have interfered or attacked the hostages as they fell... I- I didn't know what to do. With the charm slowing their fall, it would take too long for me to protect them, Fleur and Viktor were securing our exit… well they were…" He added darkly.

"A smashed up car was dropped right at the exit, blocking it." He shook his head, almost imperceptibly, "Then I looked back to the four spiders, hoping they would be distracted, but two were just looking right at them. I started to _really_ worry then. I needed a bigger distraction. Harry had kept them busy but that wouldn't last forever. With our exit blocked I _had _to act, we couldn't protect ourselves and the hostages at the same time."

"It was Harry, he did it. I was looking around, all frantic-like, for any ideas when he struck. I don't know what spell it was but it _flew_ from his wand. It was perfectly straight and deadly accurate. He killed the leader, a gigantic old acromantula. His spell put a big hole between a bunch of its eyes and that's what I needed. I cast my cutter and the four fell, the spiders were too distracted to notice and they were all gone, portkey'd to safety…" He trailed off and vacantly stared at the reporter.

"Yes, next." Scrimgeour spoke out breaking the silence.

"Barnabas Cuffe, Daily Prophet, and my question is for Mr Potter. Mister Diggory said you had some familiarity with the acromantula and their lair. Please speak to that and explain your previous interaction with them."

Harry looked at the man and had to think quickly. Did he go for the full disclosure, or did he try and frame his answer to get a specific result? It didn't take him long, though he had gotten better at suppressing his first instinct, the one to leap without looking, he decided to go with his gut here.

"The first time was actually because of Minister Fudge." He said, staring directly at the man. He knew Slughorn was friends with him and that he was coming to the event that was upcoming… Harry was pretty sure he was the editor of the paper. That begged the question of why he was here asking questions.

The man blinked in shock, twice, before he "The MInister? Really?"

"Please expand on this Harry." Scrimgeour said, looking eager to hear more as well.

"It was back in my second year here. When something was attacking students, he came with Lucius Malfoy. People were being attacked and it didn't seem it would stop. Apparently they were reminiscent of a previous series of attacks, which resulted in Rubeus Hagrid being expelled and his wand snapped, despite the lack of evidence. That is really where the tale begins."

Harry looked over and saw he had everyone hanging on his every word. This was going to work.

"You see, Hagrid was originally arrested for raising a 'monster' within the castle. A girl, Myrtle Warren, had been killed but it wasn't Hagrid's 'monster'." He paused for dramatic effects. "The creature in question was none other than Aragog, the acromantula that ruled the acromantula in the Forbidden Forest before I killed him when he told me he planned to kill us all."

Harry closed his eyes and counted within his head, un, deux, trois, he pushed back the memories that were threatening to overwhelm him, from yesterday's events.

"And the Minister told you this?" Cuffe asked, his voice conveying he didn't believe that was the case.

"No," Harry responded immediately, "The Minister had come to Hogwarts with Lucius Malfoy. I will never forget what his justification for sending Hagrid to Azkaban was. He said 'We've got to be seen doing something'. I had been visiting Hagrid just before that and he told Ron Weasley and I to 'follow the spiders'. That led us to meet Aragog, proving that Hagrid was innocent as Aragog, the monster accused of attacking students, was obviously not in the castle petrifying students, not that an acromantula could ever petrify anything anyways."

That has got to be a killshot. Between Bones' earlier moves, and Harry's current comments were akin to throwing him in front of a moving train. Fudge was incompetent and within the enemies control. If Harry could help get Bones into the position of Minister, it should be an improvement.

"You're claiming the MInister put a person in Azkaban without any proof of wrongdoing?" Cuffe asked with disbelief.

"Yes and there's more than _just_ that. Malfoy was involved _both_ times, he is, afterall, the Minister's advisor and close confidant." Harry stated emphatically.

"There is another in Azkaban that you claim is innocent?" Scrimgeour interjected before Cuffe could respond.

"He's innocent and the man who committed the crimes is free. Oddly enough, it has benefitted Malfoy, greatly."

"Who?!" Scrimgeour growled out, demanding to know."

Harry didn't respond right away. He looked out over those assembled. This was going to cause a furor. Sirius and the twins would think this was a great prank. It would probably annoy his lawyer, seeing as they had their own plan to free Sirius, but this would help sink Fudge and get Sirius his freedom.

"My godfather. A man whom the Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock attested, to Fudge, was innocent, after three other individuals and myself, saw the real person who blew up a street, killing a dozen muggles. A man innocent of betraying my parents while the muggle murdering _rat_ got an Order of Merlin, supposedly posthumously."

The mummering grew louder and louder as Harry kept talking. His wording was deliberate, he wanted to draw it out and get the charges against Sirius attributed to Pettigrew.

"The innocent man is, none other than," he delayed saying the name and Harry felt he was the only still breathing, as everyone else held their breath in anticipation, "my godfather, Sirius Black."

Calls of denial, shouts of exasperation, shocked disbelief and all manners of outrageous responses were rampant. Harry grinned at the scene. No way was this going to result in anything less than Sirius getting a fair trial now. The entire Wizarding World was going to be all over this, demanding the ministry gets to the bottom of this.

"SILENCE!" Scrimgeour bellowed out. He had his wand raised and it was sparking angrily, warning those who may day to defy his order.

The room quieted down and Harry watched as Scrimgeour calmed as well.

"Mister Potter, for the record, you are claiming to have met Peter Pettigrew, who is known to be deceased, and Sirius Black, the man being hunted with a kiss on sight warrant?" Scrimgeour asked, what he felt should be clarified so it was abundantly clear.

"Not just me. Albus Dumbledore, Professor Severus Snape, Minister Fudge, Professor Remus Lupin, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Wasley all met Sirius Black, at Hogwarts. The minister tried to have an innocent man kissed by a Dementor, the same dementors that tried to kiss me on three occasions that year, again, the same dementors stationed at Hogwarts by Fudge, at the behest of Lucius Malfoy."

Harry didn't actually know if that was true but he was going to throw shit at the man and hope it sticks. He knew Dumbledore had fought against it so it would be natural for Malfoy to argue for it.

"How would it have benefitted Malfoy for Sirius Black to be kissed?"

"With Sirius dead, or souless, there would be no males born from the Black line alive, leaving an opportunity for Draco Malfoy, the son of Narcissa Malfoy née Black, to try and claim the Black Family Regency upon reaching his majority. He would have reached it before myself and you can be sure Minister Fudge would have done all he could to help his _good friend_, even if it was against the will of the last Head of House Black."

A cacophony of voices broke out and Harry could see quills working furiously to write down everything that was being said. He smiled, this was going to work out beautifully. His mind wandered back to Lacroix and how she had scolded him for not understanding that his words were far more reaching than he had intended. He hoped he'd not misstepped here but he didn't think he had.

The fallout would hit Fudge and put a spotlight onto Malfoy. Their names would be dragged through the mud across the entire wizarding world, as he saw Barbara Smith taking notes.

This would affect Dumbledore as well, and it might put a bit of a backlash toward the DMLE, but neither issue was done under the purview of Madame Bones, so it should help bolster her when she corrects the errors of the previous administration.

Harry had zoned out in thought and missed a few seconds of whatever Scrimgeour was saying but he had caught the gist of it. There would be no further questions on Sirius Black, nor Peter Pettigrew, until the DMLE could properly assess the situation. Both the Head Auror and Director of the DMLE were unaware of the capture of Sirius Black as Fudge had not reported it. They'd be launching an immediate inquiry into the situation and should update the public as soon as they were able to.

"Barbara Smith, New York Wizarding Times, and my question is for Miss Delacour. Can you comment on Harry's role of being the bait and distraction and then how you were all able to survive. To my knowledge, acromantula lair's normally require teams of no less than ten _trained_ professionals and extensive preparation and all of you were able to escape without lasting injury."

Fleur responded right away. "'Arry was magnifique. 'E came up wiz the plan and without his presence we would not 'ave survived. When ze spiders attacked us 'e was sensationnel. Cedric and I watched one way, Viktor covered above us and 'arry protected a whole side by 'imself, 'e even 'elped the rest of us. At first I think we were all upset 'e was included, now, I think I speak for us all when I say, we wouldn't be alive without 'im and we are glad there are four champions."

She smiled brilliantly at Harry and Harry could see Viktor and Cedric nodded in agreement.

Harry felt the comments by Fleur were more flattering than the reality of it, however, he wasn't going to make a deal of it in front of the press. Good publicity paired with his acerbic comments could be nothing but beneficial.

"Marie Dumont, France Witch Weekly, my question is for Fleur. Fleur, we saw you were levitated out of the forest by Harry Potter, given that, and how you credited him with saving your life, how do you feel about him?"

Harry could see the sparkle in her eye and the hope that Fleur would comment in some sort of romantic fashion.

Fleur gave a charming smile to the the reporter, Harry didn't want to meet her eyes, he was worried about what she might say. She could tell the truth and make it an outrageous statement. Simply by saying 'we spent the night in bed together last night and plan to talk with my father about it' would be both the truth and incredibly inflammatory.

"I first thought 'arry was arrogant, distant and a glory seeker. He didn't try and get to know me, a Delacour, and had never returned our owls. I have since learned 'ad no knowledge of 'is patrimoine. 'Arry is a perfect gentleman and if 'e was not already the most eligible bachelor 'is age, I would say 'e should be."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, he was actually worried she'd say something provocative. His earlier comments would already cause enough political and legal turmoil he didn't need added speculation on his romantic life, in public. There already was some in the papers, that he may be in a relationship with Natalia or Fleur.

"Even you?" Marie asked, her inflection clearly willing Fleur to say yes.

"attendre et regarder; wait and see." Fleur translated her own response with a sly grin and small shoulder shrug.

The press conference continued with another half-dozen questions being focused on the tournament itself, security, its continuation and further topics along vein, ones Harry didn't need to pay much attention to. There were another half-dozen that were focused on asking champions specific questions but Harry hadn't paid too much attention. He didn't need to really care about how Cedric had prepared with his Hufflepuff friends for the task...

"Barbara Smith, again, Cedric, those watching were able to see massive pillars of smoke coming from the forest. What were they from?"

Harry suspected Barbara was asking Cedric the question because he was the least careful in answering. Viktor was a man of _very_ few words, when interacting with the media, Harry had been cagey and the way Fleur had answered her last two questions, speaking many words that ended up saying very little.

Harry felt a little worry that Cuddles would come up and out in the open and he didn't want that. Though all four of the champions had said they'd keep it quiet, he hoped Cedric remembered that before answering. The anxious and strained features on his face weren't encouraging to Harry.

"Err… Fleur had been using fire spells to limit the ways the spiders could rush us. She also lit bodies on fire so they were not used as cover by approaching acromantula. And Harry did something fire based, something _big_. I didn't see it cast; I've no idea what it was."

Barbara Smith was evidently pleased with his response. "Mister Potter, are you able to comment on your spell? It must have been quite something for it to have caused so much smoke."

Harry leaned forward, he'd been resting his back against the chair as most of the questions were not coming to him, thank Merlin. "It was a spell I've been working on. It worked in the heat of the moment but I've been having troubles with it. It's something that will be a part of my family magic."

Family magic was such a catch-all get out of trouble excuse. Unexplained magic can be deemed as Family magic and the laws protects your right to keep secret your own spells. It was a convenient way to get away from saying it was Cuddles or trying to showcase his experiments with replicating dragonfire.

Harry could see she wasn't pleased with his non-answer, she'd hoped for a story there.

The press conference wound down as the Scrimgeour only allowed three more questions before allowing three other questions, none of which were directed at Harry.

Harry stood, when the final question had been answered, and descended off the platform. He was ushered, with the other champions, into a cordoned off area.

Harry didn't know what he should do now. Head back to the chamber? Find Slughorn and Cyrus? Talk to Fleur? Go see Natalia again? He needed food too, at some point.

"'Arry, did you want to speak with Papa?" She had come up beside him and taken hold of his arm, her left hand falling into his right and her right arm holding his bicep.

He glanced over at her, when she'd grabbed onto him, and he had to suppress a small instinct to draw his wand.

"Sure." He said, not sounding as convinced as the word indicated he was.

They both exchanged departing pleasantries with Cedric and Viktor before Harry followed Fleur out of the castle to the Beauxbatons Carriage.

The carriage was expanded, greatly, on the inside and felt more like the interior of a muggle school mixed with apartments. Mostly, on the right hand side of the main corridor there were academic rooms like classrooms and the library, and on the left were short hallways with numbered doors, Harry assumed they were the living spaces.

Heading toward the end of the main corridor they came to a hallway that had but a single door. The door was clearly marked for the Beauxbatons Champion, Fleur Delacour.

The entered the room and Harry was a little surprised at how large it was. They'd entered into an actual entry way with tall ceilings and marble floors. Harry followed Fleur into a large open room that functioned as a sitting area, dining area and it even had a kitchenette. He could see where there was a bedroom and a bathroom, possibly another bathroom attached to the bedroom, for Fleur's personal usage.

Already seated were Apolline and Patrice Delacour. They were sitting on the three person couch, leaving a two person loveseat and a single armchair available.

Harry may have preferred to sit in the single arm chair but Fleur still had a hold of his hand and gently guided him to the love seat. He sat and Fleur pressed herself right against him, learning into him with her left arm falling across his thigh, her hand holding just above his knee, giving him gentle caresses with graceful movements of her fingers.

He could feel his face burn, embarrassed by her ministrations. It was precisely the reason that he had wanted a separate seat, Fleur rarely missed opportunities to be physically affectionate or to tease him.

"It is nice to see you again, 'arry." Apolline said, giving him a welcoming smile in greeting, her soft blue eyes warm and alight with amusement, enjoying Harry's embarrassment.

"The press conference went well." Patrice said, by way of saving Harry.

"Oui, the remarks were all rather flattering for you, 'arry." Apolline was correct, Harry thought, the other champions had been very kind with their words, taking steps to ensure Harry was recognized for what he'd done. He felt a bit guilty for it, they were only in the forest, to begin with, because of him.

"The headlines should be interesting, that's for sure." Patrice responded to his wife's comments. "Are you two alright? It's been a long couple of days, do you need to go lay down?"

Harry was looking down as Fleur's fingers were still busy slowly running back and forth on his leg, he missed if Patrice had any indication as to whether or not he was joking. He didn't seriously just ask if Harry would go to the same bed with Fleur again.

"Non, we can always do zat later, non?"

Harry didn't look at her, he could hear that she was teasing him.

"I 'eard, from Fleur, I should be talking to you about a certain contract. We've always told our daughters they would be able to choose their matches but there will be contract negotiations that we decide upon."

Harry nodded, feeling the tension in the room heat up, Fleur hadn't stopped her caressing, if anything, she sped up.

Harry could feel his heart beating erratically, this was such a weird conversation to be having, seeing as he hadn't even gone on a date with Fleur. How could these be the preliminary discussions towards marriage, a lifelong commitment, if he'd never done anything more than kiss her, if they'd only known each other for such a short time?

Oddly, his gut wasn't nervous about that. If he had any indication, and he wasn't sure it was an overtly clear decision, he felt rather comfortable with her and the possibility of marriage. It was like she'd said, she was smart, beautiful and she was a person of great character. She loved her family and stood tall in the face of great adversity. If he made a list of attributes he was looking for in a potential wife she'd tick every box and then some.

"I'll need my advisors with me before I could negotiate at all." Harry said, looking back up, directly at Patrice.

"Who are your advisors?" Fleur asked quickly, her head tilted and a frown on her face.

"Horace Slughorn and Cyrus Greengrass." Harry state quickly, not failing to notice the looks he received when he stated their names.

"Can you trust them?" Fleur asked, dubiously.

"Oh yes, more than anyone. Even more than my parents closest friends." He knew that would probably be taken as more of a shot at them, with the Delacours being friends of his family's. He was alright with that. They needed to know some information before any heavy negotiations could happen anyways. If they were going to tie their heiress to Harry he wanted to disclose the voldemort information that they had. If they were given that information it would only be with an unbreakable vow in place, there would be no Pettigrews in his circle of trusted individuals.

"Are you sure it's wise to trust your Steward so? There have been lots of cases throughout history where a Steward is not working for the best of a family…" Patrice played a more neutral response, giving sound advice, he was still, clearly, upset with the situation.

"Normally, no. In this circumstance, yes." With his eyebrows raised, and a calm demeanor he responded. He brought a free hand up and used it to rub Fleur's forearm affectionately, hoping to soothe her.

"Why in this circumstance?" Apolline asked, her eyes slightly narrowed and her legs now crossed with her hands clasped, resting on the top of her upper knee.

Harry flicked his wand out and looked at Patrice and Apolline, "May I?" He inquired, obviously intent to cast a spell.

Before any further items were said by him there would be privacy charms he knew he could trust. He'd felt some when he came into the room but he wasn't spilling any information he preferred to keep quiet.

After receiving a nod he cast his privacy spells and stowed his wand back in his holster.

"An unbreakable vow of loyalty." He informed them the reason he was so certain of their loyalty.

Harry heard three gasps. Fleur had tightened her grip on his thigh, he felt. Patrice's eyes had grown hard and he looked distinctly uncomfortable while his wife had her wedding ring clad hand covering her mouth.

"A Steward… I can _somewhat_ understand… Not Horace though. That is too hard to believe." Patrice said. "The man is a consummate Slytherin. He's sly, cunning and you can't pin him on anything. 'E wouldn't 'ave given you one." Patrice shook his head minutely as he finished. "Non, 'e wouldn't." He added again, confirming his previous thought verbally.

Harry shrugged. "He did, after I met his conditions." Harry revealed without getting into any sort of details.

"Is this Slughorn important? What about the Greengrass Steward, is he?" Fleur asked her father.

Harry relaxed back into the love seat. He was curious what Patrice would say about his two advisors.

"Horace Slughorn was a professor here. He taught potions and was the Head of the Slytherin House for nearly a half century. In his time he helped shape the educations of all of Hogwarts students and he was famous for spotting talent and helping to nurture it. He introduced students to alumni and grew a vast network of contacts. It's safe to say he knows everyone worth knowing and has decades of detailed knowledge many would kill for. He plays from the shadows and is very cunning, though he plays the part of a kind and dopey older portly man. Never forget how knowledgeable he is. It is said he knows everyone and they all owe 'im a favor."

"That is good for 'arry then, non?" Fleur asked, shooting Harry a look of veiled surprise, her hands getting back to their earlier ministrations.

"It is quite a coup to have him as an advisor." Patrice affirmed. "He's beyond knowledgeable in the social and political circles. He's also rather learned in magic and is a very talented potion master."

"He really is an excellent potioneer, an excellent tutor as well." Harry grinned, not minding giving them more information, it would be assumed by Patrice and Apolline anyway.

"Oh, we finally get to learn of one of your tutors. If they are all of his caliber you'll continue with the superb scoring in your examinations." Patrice praised and teased. He turned his focus to Fleur, as he answered the second part of her earlier question.

"Cyrus Greengrass was the Black Steward brought on by Arcturus Black after the Grindelwald campaign. He was doing amazing things for the Greengrass family and their allies, financially, at the time. Arcturus worked out some deal and until his children took over the running of the House Black Cyrus began to work his financial magic for the Blacks. If he is loyal, he will do very well for Harry's finances and he is deft at politics as well, his family being quite connected to the business minded folk in the Wizengamot."

Harry was pleased to hear this information, he was already aware of it, from his own research, but it was good to have it confirmed.

Fleur was smiling widely at him. "I was so worried about your age and a possible lack of maturity; I 'ave nothing to worry about there, wiz you." She craned her neck forward and left a lingering kiss on his cheek.

"I'm okay to talk but nothing will be actually negotiated or decided upon without them." Harry was quite curious as to what they were going to say and wanted to know.

"You've never been involved in talks like these?" Apolline asked, her gorgeous visage reminding him of just how beautiful Fleur would remain, even after motherhood.

"No, I've had some discussions on potential matches and the benefits and detriments of them." Harry hadn't really asked too much about it and neither Horace nor Cyrus had brought it up.

"Negotiations at this level are... _complicated_ matters. In a less complex situation than yours, there would be discussions on every facet of joining the families, heirs, economics, magic, social, political and so on and so forth." Patrice began to explain while his wife smiled softly at him and shuffled over so that her side was touching his, her upper body leaned away, slightly, so she could get a clear view of her husband's face, as he spoke.

"Your situation is… convoluted."

Harry tensed in his seat, his muscles contracting, however, he didn't think that would be noticeable to Fleur's parents. He doubted Fleur would miss it and could feel her hug into him, trying to relax him.

"When Charlus Potter married Dorea Black it was… against the grain. Is that the English phrase?" Patrice was uncertain of his word choice.

"It was against their natural inclination to marry one another?" Harry asked, not liking how that made things sound.

Patrice frowned, his forehead creasing and the skin around his eyes tightening. "Non, particulier, étrange, inattendu; peculiar, strange, unexpected. Though they had worked together to end Grindelwald, the families have polar opposite politics."

Harry tried to pick up what he was saying, "And I'm the Regent Black and Head of House Potter. I have the opportunity to sire the heirs to both families."

"Not just that, 'arry," Fleur said, from beside him, "you 'ave been on extremely public dates with Natalia, a Pavlov. You 'ave a business oriented neutral family as your Steward, and 'ave been associating with the Heiresses Greengrass, Bones and Delacour."

It was now official. He was going to be sitting down with Horace and getting him to handle all this garbage. With Voldemort and trying to stay alive, his plate was overfull already. No way was he going to be handling all this betrothal negotiation stuff. They hadn't even gotten into any negotiations yet and his patience was already waning. He considered it may just be all of the events over the last couple days that have worn out his patience.

"You associate with all spectrums of the English political landscape. To try and summarize the situation, and keep in mind it is _not_ this well divided, nor simple, the Wizengamot has four major factions. The families that supported You-Know-Who and support the Pureblood agenda. There is a more mercantile, business oriented, faction that normally runs more neutral, they want no part of wars that destroy business opportunities. There is the Dumbledore-led faction and finally those that oppose the Pureblood agenda and don't agree with either.

"House Potter has always been a part of the latter. They are not so business orientated that their economic interests override their convictions. In fact, your grandfather, Charlus, was famous for taking shots at Dumbledore, Pureblood, and Mercantile positions. He shamed them, for their inaction against Grindelwald, allowing Europe to burn without their opposition. It was he that spearheaded help for the ICW when the Wizengamot tried to keep out of the conflict. He blazed a path for joining those that still fought against the tyranny of Grindelwald."

"Wait," Harry interjected, "I thought Arcturus and Charlus worked together against Grindelwald." Slughorn had told him that, he distinctly remembered this fact.

Patrice nodded in agreement, "They did, however, Charlus was on the offensive against all those who opposed fighting in the rising conflict. Arcturus was one he convinced to act. They went on to be formidable allies, however, their personal politics didn't match. Charlus allowed his only heir to marry a muggle born witch and Arcturus' continued to support the pureblood agenda, until the rise of You-Know-Who. They remained good friends, but friends do not always agree on everything… Like I'd said, complicated."

"Papa," Fleur spoke up again, "you've gotten off track." She pouted at her father. Harry could tell it was a show to put on the pout.

"I have indeed, my daughter, I have indeed." He sat up a little straighter, not that he had been slouching, he'd been more relaxing into the contact with his wife, something Harry wouldn't blame him for. His own posture wasn't perfect with Fleur being so affectionate against him.

"You have been associating with the Pavlov family, a very traditional dark family, the Greengrass family, mercantile to the bone, the Bones heiress, a family known for being lighter orientated but never within Dumbledore's camp, and ourselves. I'd like to think the Delacour family is known for supporting equal rights, for all, and strong economic political platforms so our country stays strong. When everyone is working and making money they are happy and wars are unnecessary."

This political point of view was something Harry would really have to look at. He had two houses to consider. He hadn't even worked out his own views…

"The Pavlov family is _very_ traditional. They would be a mixture of pureblood and mercantile. We have frequent clashes with them in the ICW over Veela rights and on economic iss-"

"Nope. Nope, nope, nope. My head isn't into this right now. We'll need to have Horace and Cyrus here." Harry cut him off, he was already mixing things up and didn't want to get a headache. He had so much on his mind that politics and tedious details were going to be of no help. He was cutting it off now, before anything went anywhere. Plus, they didn't even knew the major information that they'd have to take a vow, or sign a contract, for. He wouldn't get betrothed to Fleur if she had no idea that Voldemort was still around and had made multiple attempts on his life.

Feeling all of these things overwhelming him he cut Patrice off, rudely.

"Can we invite them 'ere, 'arry?" Fleur asked, her arms snaking around him and pulling him into a hug.

Harry appreciated her comfort while, simultaneously, being annoyed that it was partly responsible for confusing him. His emotions were in turmoil, after seeing Natalia unresponsive, talking with Ivan and then being around Fleur again. All he needed was for Daphne, Susan and Hannah to come and tease him, with each declaring their intention to marry him, oh and Ginny too, just to make it a properly bollocksed up situation.

He realized he'd been in his thoughts and hadn't responded to Fleur yet. Harry didn't like that the meeting would be here, where the Delacour's were far more familiar. He'd rather move this to Arcturus' study, or even the sitting area, than here. It would help him feel more comfortable.

"No… I should probably go meet with them. They need to be brought up to speed on what went on in the forest. Would you come for after dinner? I can have you over to the former office of Arcturus' Black. It will be secure, more secure than school lands.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It hadn't taken long to get Horace and Cyrus to the office. Ackerly had stopped by briefly before Harry sent him off to get some work done for him, but mostly because he didn't want Ackerly to learn everything that might be spoken of.

They were sitting in the informal sitting area, it was just a more comfortable place to sit, and they wouldn't need to relocate when the Delacour's arrived.

"So I should probably confess some more stuff to you two…"

He wasn't worried about this. The lawyer had already had them both sign magically binding contracts to cover anything his oaths may have missed. He'd had them prepared because he knew he'd need them in the future. If Sirius, Remus, Ivan, Patrice, Natalia, Daphne, Fleur, or anyone else, was going to be brought into the know.

"The first task… well, I, err, may have,… killed… the dragons. And, I put a potion into the Black Lake so it wasn't usable for the Second Task."

If he expected either man to freak out, or get upset at him, he would have been disappointed. Both men were remarkably calm about it.

"We've suspected for some time." Cyrus said, amused by the disbelief on Harry's face.

Harry huffed, annoyed. He spent all this time worried and his two advisors already had figured it out. He'd gotten all worked up and spent all that mental energy on working up the courage to do it for nothing.

Horace chuckled. "My dear boy, it's more than Cyrus is letting on. I can tell you've engaged in ritualistic magic. How far are you and what is the end goal?"

"You knew? How?" Harry wanted to know, he'd come to admit information on him and was finding out that their advanced years over his made them far more knowledgeable about him that he'd hoped. He immediately wondered who else would be able to figure it out. The thought worried him.

"Your magic. It's imbalanced. For those that know what to look for, for those that know how to sense it, it's obvious." Horace said as it was the most normal thing before he leaned forward and casually picked up a tumbler with firewhiskey, taking a small sip while Harry processed what he'd heard.

"Who else might know?" Harry asked, hoping they'd know.

"Most certainly Albus," Horace responded without looking, he was swishing the firewhiskey, and three perfectly circular ice cubes in the glass, finding it far more interesting than looking at Harry, "I'd wager Filius, Severus, Septima and possibly Babbling and Minerva. Beyond Hogwarts, it's hard to say. I'd assume Bones, Parent and Scrimgeour." He gave a disinterested shrug, still focused on his drink, the three ice balls hypnotically rolling around in the glass, "Who knows from the foreign delegations. Most internationals don't have the background material to be familiar with it. Only the eldest of families still house knowledge from before it was taboo."

Harry was mollified by the fact neither man was making this out to be a big deal. He decided to answer the earlier question."

"I'm aiming for seven sets of seven. At roughly two rituals per week I'll be well finished before the Third Task."

Slughorn choked on his drink when he heard Harry start. "Seven sets of seven, did I hear you right, Harry?"

"Yes." He said clearly.

Cyrus whistled. "I didn't even know that was possible. Wouldn't they interfere with one another and make him too unstable?" Cyrus asked Horace, as if Harry wasn't in front of him.

Horace put his drink down and rubbed his chin. "You'd think so… theoretically, it's possible. The sets of three are less balanced and geared more toward power. The sets of seven are more balanced, few have ever ventured past three sets of seven though.." He mused aloud. "It's possible… I've just never heard of anyone who could attempt such. Forty-nine separate rituals that do not conflict, seven sets that are different and balance together… An unheard of masterwork but possible."

"Have others done this before you? Is it Potter family magic?" Cyrus asked, his eyes narrowed. "I know it's not from your Black heritage."

"It's not Potter. It's the Slytherin family's knowledge."

The drink in Cyrus's hand fell out, the glass shattering, alcohol exploding onto the floor and the ice balls rolling away, not that anyone noticed.

"S- S- Slytherin?!" Cyrus exclaimed, not even noticing his feet were covered in broken glass and alcohol.

Harry turned to Horace, who had been silent so far. His face was pale and he was horrified. "Tom did the rituals?" He asked Harry sharply, his gaze piercing.

"I believe so." He responded honestly.

"You- you've got to bring me those notes. Tom, he was… imbalanced. By the time he left Hogwarts… his magic was worsening, becoming more imbalanced."

Although he'd read Salazar Slytherin's warnings about botching rituals, he still wanted to hear from another source. "How bad is it to have imbalanced magic?"

"Harry, your magic, it is your life. Losing your magic is a death sentence, only those very young can survive it and live a mundane muggle life. It's like having an imbalanced potion, it's volatile and has dangerous side effects for any who would dare to ingest such a thing. It would wreak havoc on your body, on your magic and, most importantly, your mind. There aren't many documented cases. Ritualistic magic has been taboo for many centuries. Too many died from experiments."

Harry swallowed hard. His mind blanked, too filled with worry to be coherent. Fear was paralyzing his ability to think.

"You've got to bring me your notes. I can try and assist deciphering the long term effects of the rituals you're undertaking because you can't stop. You must complete the full total or you'll be even worse off." There was a degree of worry in his voice.

"You can't read it. It's in parseltongue." Harry informed him as his brain had rebooted itself, finding a way to break the cycle of worry and fear.

Now that he thought about it further, he was more confident. Salazar Slytherin was a great and powerful wizard. He was a Founder of Hogwarts. He claimed to be the foremost expert on rituals. There was no way Harry would believe that he would leave behind a path to assist his heirs that only ended in imbalanced magic. There _must_ be something more to it.

"I don't believe Salazar Slytherin would have doomed his students. Riddle must have screwed up the rituals, or done too many. I can't imagine Salazar would have researched so extensively and left detailed instruction only to have them result in getting imbalanced magic."

Horace slowly dipped his chin, then let it rise. "Yes… there is some sense in that line of thought."

Harry looked over to Cyrus. He had his wand out and repaired the drink, the alcohol and ice went back into the cup. He downed it after sporting a massive grin.

"Ahhh." He said, very pleased with himself. "Harry, you might be the best thing that ever happened to my family." He was positively euphoric in gaiety.

Harry looked at Horace, perplexed, his eyebrows raised high on his forehead. Slughorn didn't have an indication as to why the man was suddenly to happy, he hadn't had enough firewhiskey to get drunk.

"You swore to provide all access to all knowledge on rituals that you possess. And, now, you've found Salazar Slytherin's personal trove of ritualistic magic. Amazingly enough you've found the only known artifact that would allow my family access to read it, in parseltongue, Salazar's own locket. If my daughter wouldn't be jealous, I'd kiss you!"

Harry's jaw dropped and his mouth formed a perfect 'O'. He'd never even considered this possibility. He'd meant to give them access to the Black of Potter knowledge, not access to the Chamber of Secrets. The vow would force him to deliver on his promise, if it was possible to do so.

"It's hidden in the school. I- it's probably best if Daphne is the one to peruse it…" Bollocks! He didn't want _anyone_ to be aware of that place, let alone entering it. Now he'd have to give Daphne access. He'd keep it to supervised access. He'd have to be very careful to ensure nobody but her became aware of it.

"That's fine," he waived off Harry's response, "she's even more determined to fix the curse than I am. She's studied everything I've compiled on it since she was a little girl. Better her than me, I'd think."

Harry was glad there was a lull in the conversation. He hadn't really wanted to talk further about it. He spent the time thinking through how he would work with Daphne down there. After a time, he brought up the questions he wanted to go over before the Delacour's arrived.

"There were a few things I wanted to cover. First, what should I do about my education. I'm woefully prepared to be a politician and businessman. Secondly, I need advice on the marriage contract situation, advice in what's best for me and the Houses I need to repopulate," He sent a challenging look at Cyrus, who met his gaze without reaction. "Thirdly, I think I should bring others into this group. The three of us cover a lot but I worry it's the three of us planning against Riddle, who has a whole organization of followers. Lastly, what are your thoughts on what Ivan shared? Do we need a response?" Harry quickly laid out the topics he wanted to cover with the two men. He'd been thinking it over and didn't want to miss anything.

"That's a lot to cover, my boy…" Horace refilled his tumbler with Firewhiskey before he deigned to consider answering.

"I think you should specialize for now. We can cover the legal, social, economic and political side. Where we lack, versus Riddle, or even Dumbledore, is a magical titan. From the reports of how the task went, and your earlier grades, you're well on your way. You should focus in combat magic and let a team of advisors and allies sort out the rest. When Voldemort is defeated, or you're a magical titan, you can work to learn the other aspects."

Harry considered that. It went along with his mantra of doing what it took to stay alive. He didn't like the idea of not being fully educated in the other realms but wizards had long lives. If it took him to thirty or forty to become fully up to speed on all of those areas he'd have most of his life still left. It could work, though he didn't like having only Cyrus and Slughorn to rely on. He'd need more allies.

"Sensible." Slughorn commented, now that his glass was full. "While I have a great depth of magical knowledge, I am not a fighter. My mind is my weapon, not my wand. Cyrus was a good dueler, in his day, but good is no match for the likes of Tom and Albus." He caught Harry's eyes. "If or when Tom returns, it will be you, not Albus, that must end him. The task is monumental and we'll aid you but it will be your wand against his, there are no other candidates. With forty-nine rituals, I trust you'll be an even greater powerhouse than you already are."

Harry leaned back, it was true. Dumbledore had defeated Grindelwald but had never been able to best Riddle. With their knowledge of the horcruxes, they could make this work, if they manage to find and destroy them all.

"As for marriage advice, oho, you should marry five women."

Harry had just grabbed, and opened, a butterbeer. He was enjoying a swig when he choked on his drink. "_Five?!" _Why in Merlin's name would it be so many?!" Harry demanded to know incredulously. It didn't help Cyrus' schadenfreude during this exchange, he was holding his tumbler up, as if he was about to sip it, hiding behind it, but he kept chortling and couldn't actually risk drinking at the moment.

"You have two families to repopulate and that would give you allies. With another generation you'd have a dozen kids, each of them establishing allies, a main branch family and multiple other branches started. You'd set the families back into stable places."

"Couldn't I do that with one or two?!" Harry wanted to know, not liking the idea of _five_ wives.

"Two wives for each family, each should give you at least three children, and there are heriesses that would like to gain your bloodline and would give considerable terms to have the children continue their line, instead of one of yours. Greengrass, Delacour, and Bones you are all familiar with, and they aren't the only family with a sole female heir, there are others too. You could leverage two or three of those situations into quite the advantage."

Harry was aghast at how cavalier Horace was being. Marry so many women. Did love not matter? Did him raising his children and being an active participant in their lives not matter? How could he personally raise a dozen children, or more, from five or six different women? Would he have his own little town? Start a Potterville with five or six estate homes for all his wives and rugrats? This was madness.

"I agree with Horace. If Daphne is able to remove the curse we'll be doing everything possible to increase our numbers. The Weasley family is one of the few that is well off. Seven children to continue their lines. There will be a whole brood of them. Their seven children will have progeny. They used to be a much larger family but were down to just Arthur. Molly had two brothers to carry on the Prewitt name but they were murdered. You want to avoid that. I'd be interested in negotiation to keep a child between you and a daughter of mine as a Greengrass, others would be too, Horace is correct on that."

Harry hated that he could not detect any sense of them misleading him. They were both serious about it.

"What about love and raising your own kids? Does that not matter?" Harry asked in a small voice. He hoped it did.

Horace softened his voice as he spoke, "Harry, it does but you have to look at this differently. You are the last of your family, one that has been around for centuries. You won't be matched with anyone that you dislike. Imagine one of Fleur or Natalia. If you get betrothed to one of them, or even both of them, think of how you'd treat them. You'd both want it to work. There is no divorce option. You'll treat them well, you'll look after them and cherish them. They are both very attractive young witches and you'll have no issues with the physical side, or least I presume you wouldn't."

The smile Horace gave him unnerved Harry. Old guys shouldn't have that look on their face when thinking of a fifteen and a seventeen year old witches. He shuddered just at seeing the lecherous look.

"Don't you think you'd love them? They'd bear your children, would you not love them? It might not be your fairy tale, or muggle idealised, marriage. But even your mother, who didn't like James when she signed her contract with his parents, grew to like and love your father. Could she have married for love and been happier? Possibly. I can't say for sure but I can tell you that she'd never had considered another option. She loved your father and she loved you, most of all."

Harry could see a small tear form in the corner of Slughorn's eye. He brought his hand up and wiped it away before downing the rest of his drink. A morose look came on his face.

"It's sound advice Harry. You don't need five wives right now. Starting with one or two is more than fine. You can add more, there's no rush to fill every space. There is some in the sense of gathering allies though."

Harry nodded, he'd have to think on this more. He didn't like the idea but both of his advisors were giving him oath-bound advice that was best for him. If he took just one wife, Daphne wouldn't work. Fleur would have three children, a Potter, a Black and a Delacour, and that was cutting it thin. Natalia could give him more children, theoretically, but would that leave her more like Molly? Seven children in even a decade would destroy her career. Being pregnant for five and a quarter years, in a decade, and that's not even getting into taking care of a newborn, would certainly destroy her ability to train, let alone improve at ballet.

The ugly reality was there were serious drawbacks to having a single wife. He'd have to consider this more. With Fleur coming, he was sure to be doing just that, very soon.

"Ackerly will take care of the magical contract but it's not enough to bring people fully into this circle. It would be secure enough to let someone know that Voldemort is not dead but you'd never consider saying the word horcrux without an unbreakable vow being involved. Anything that covers illegal acts, past, present and future, should be covered by an unbreakable vow. Loyalty and secrecy vows for those that are actively advising you. If they are going to betray you it should cost their lives to attempt to do it. You can't afford another Pettigrew."

Harry hadn't been too certain on Cyrus being a good advisor but the man was sharp and pragmatic. If the Delacours were correct, and he didn't doubt they were, he was a financial wizard and that would explain why Arcturus had him as a Steward. Harry was coming to appreciate the man more and more. He'd be spending time with Daphne in the chamber so he'd certainly get to know her better too.

"And Ivan's comments?" Harry led him to continue onto the last topic.

"Crouch Jr is dead. Crouch Sr and Bagman are both dead. I'm not sure what message you need to send. You've already blasted Fudge and the press is going to maul the tournament organizers. We know it's Riddle and we don't have a way to strike him directly."

Cyrus gave him a pretty succinct summary, Harry already knew that but thought Ivan was correct. He couldn't let his enemy keep dictating the terms of engagement. He needed to get offensive and not just wait and react. His opponent was weak and he needed to press his advantage, or so he thought.

"Riddle is the enemy. His hidden agent is exposed and dead. You've helped sink the Minister controlled by the Pureblood faction of the Wizengamot. You've struck back already." Horace added, for good measure.

Harry couldn't help but disagree, he doubted he kept this off his features for the other men to notice.

"I don't think so. We stopped a plot of Riddle's. Are we just going to sit around and wait for another one to come at us now? We need to be doing _something_. We need to be proactive and work at dismantling his support." Harry said, embers of his righteous anger stoking as he talked passionately about what the thought.

"We are doing something. We've neutralized a horcrux and are rebuilding your Houses and allies." Slughorn pointed out carefully, Harry thought he didn't want to antagonize the situation any further.

"You've both told me you are great at politics, finance, and socializing. Neither of you are fighters, commanders, generals. That's what we need. We need someone that can help us defeat the enemy." Harry said critically, seeing if either man would disagree.

"Just who might this person be, Harry, my boy?" Slughorn asked him, taking a sip of his whiskey after asking, not exactly pleased with the turn in conversation.

"I don't know. I'll talk with Remus and Sirius. I'll see if they'll join us. If things go well with the Delacours then Patrice is a possibility. Ivan Pavlov could be another, though we'd have to offer something like a betrothal to Natalia to get him on board I'd suspect." Harry mused aloud, slumping back in his chair and bringing his open hands to his face. All this plotting was exhausting.

"They'd all have to agree to vows, unbreakable ones, if they were to join us." Cyrus reiterated his earlier point.

"They'll willingly do it or not join." He stated, resolutely.

They'd been talking for quite a while now and Harry checked the time, the Delacours should arrive any minute. This was going to be interesting. He could imagine how great it would go over. 'Hey Fleur I need _five_ wives, want to be number un?'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 days of travelling and I'm back, I know it's not even Halloween yet but user Bear VII asked if I'd thought of doing anything for Christmas, like a bonus scene or something. I don't know about Christmas day but the 1 year anniversary of the fic being published is upcoming. I'm willing to consider reader suggestions and will endeavor to attempt something, though, I've not written on demand before and I won't guarantee I will write something. If I dislike all the ideas I'll skip it but I imagine with 5k follows someone would have an interesting idea.
> 
> Chapters 4 & 5 have been beta'd by Nauze and are now reposted. Thanks for the great work on that one and this one too Nauze!
> 
> Thanks to all who read, fav, follow and review the fic. Pms are always open and I've even added discord- Salient#3840.


	28. Tedious Talks

Bloody buggering bollocks! This wasn't a smart move. He had been so impressed with himself that he'd gotten both men bound by unbreakable oaths. He thought it was such a coup, and it was. However, now he realized that he'd actually given away access to the Chamber of Secrets. He was such a fucking genius. He hadn't even considered that this could happen. He'd been careless, arrogant even, with the wording of his oath and was now paying for it.

Now that he'd thought on it more, he wondered if she'd even be able to access the information. The books hadn't been forthright and accessible for him. Would she even be able to read any of the books? Harry didn't have all of the books unlocked to him yet, many were still blank, and there was a mechanism of control that he had no clue how to operate or even how it even worked.

It frustrated him, immensely.

The Chamber of Secrets was always releasing the next bit of information,only when he needed it. It never gave him enough materials so that he could read ahead and see what would be upcoming in his education. He couldn't ask an older student, or someone who was further along, with Salazar's curriculum. He just gets what is given, no more, no less. Not that it was the most annoying thing he'd dealt with recently.

Though the meeting with the Delacours, well just Patrice, wasn't annoying, Harry had found that it was _beyond_ tedious. The first hour was discussion on trade. Licenses, imports, exports, muggle tax, magical tax, joint ventures, ownership schemes, and after an hour of just this single term being talked about, Harry had excused himself. Fleur and Apolline had chosen to spend more time with Gabrielle and Harry wondered if they were even invited to come along.

After he left, he reflected that they may have been trying to deliberately bore him, they knew he'd had a busy few days and wasn't versed in economics. He had to ask for clarifications, multiple times, and he understood that his presence was serving more of a nuisance than benefit. If it was going to be a longhaul negotiation, and given the details, and depth of discussion, it would be, they more than likely preferred to not have a principal party in the negotiations, at least until it was nearly complete.

Harry was fine to beg off and let his advisors handle it. He was focusing on magic, on staying alive. Slughorn and Greengrass were far more capable of working those terms towards his favour than he would have been able to do himself. Retiring for the night was simply prudent, he'd be better served getting back into his routine than staying up late and negotiating. With the study locked down, he had no worries about leaving the three men. He'd accomplished the only thing he was concerned about, he didn't want news to leak as to what was being discussed.

Patrice hadn't had an issue with signing documents to not disclose anything about the negotiations and he had some of his own for them to sign, again just protecting the privacy of the negotiations. The penalties were not loss of magic. If the terms were breached the contract would show it and major financial penalties were paid by the party that breached it. Apparently it was pretty standard. Ackerly had sent the documents back over quickly, Harry had appreciated the turnaround time.

But now, at this early hour, he was going to be trying to bring Daphne into the Chamber of Secrets. If she made it in, she'd be the first one to be brought in since he'd gone after Ginny in his second year.

Harry made his way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It was where he'd told Cyrus he would meet Daphne today, the two had some form of communication and he would let her know to make her way there discreetly. He had been rather eager to get his daughter into contact with the Slytherin library as soon as possible. There she was. Looking perfect and chipper, as if it wasn't five in the bloody morning.

"Harry." She greeted him neutrally but he could see the excitement in her posture, she was almost bouncing in anticipation. She was obviously eager to see him, no doubt her father told her what she'd be getting access to.

"Daphne" He neutrally responded, mimicking her greeting.

"Well, where are we going?" Harry almost laughed at how eager she was. He was really tempted to force her down the pipe.

"You came in your cloak?" Harry had demanded that Daphne had an invisibility cloak, so she could move through the school without being tracked.

"Of course, father was quite annoyed you forced him to provide me one. I, on the other hand, thank you. It should be quite useful." She beamed at him.

"Good." He hadn't seen her show up, she had beat him here and, more than likely, had been early, waiting for him. He didn't really care that she had the cloak now, he just didn't want to be found out. He hadn't been caught accessing the chamber, but that might just be because of his own amazing cloak.

Harry went right to the sink, casting a look around, he had been surprised not to find Myrtle around.

"You do know this is a lavatory for females, right Harry?" Daphne asked, her teasing tone surprised him, it caught him off guard because it was so early. He wondered if she had taken a pepper up potion to be this awake.

Harry ignored it and heard her footsteps behind him. He hissed at the sink and it opened. Although he had a stairs option, to get back up, he wanted Daphne to experience the slide. She'd probably hex him, after she figured out that she wouldn't have had to take the slide, no doubt in his mind that she'd figure it out.

Daphne gasped when the hole opened up.

"Ladies first." He smirked at her, enjoying the astonished look on her face.

"You expect me to jump in there?! You've lost your bloody mind, Potter! It's filthy!" She objected quite strongly to the idea, her arms crossing beneath her bust.

Oh yes, he was so going to be hexed later for this, but for right now, it was worth it. Besides, being hexed was future's Harry Potter problem, not his.

"If the Greengrass heiress doesn't wish to take advantage of my offer, to provide access to priceless knowledge on rituals, then feel free to decline and leave. I'm only oathbound to offer to provide access." He knew he had her. He could see she was still leery but his words had egged her on.

She walked up to him, and Harry felt something poke him below his stomach. "If this is some joke, you'll find I have some _very_ inventive spells for this region." She growled at him, her eyes boring into his.

Harry just laughed, slightly forced. "I'd never dream of it, dear Daphne."

His words had an effect again, she nodded and stepped forward, putting her wand away, she braced herself from falling in as she tried to look down the pipe.

"Where does this go?" She asked, curious and not looking back at him, still inspecting the pipe.

"Nowhere all that special, just the Chamber of Secrets." He airily commented.

Daphne's head whirled around, her eyes seeking to know if he was being sarcastic or if it was true.

"What will I drop down into? Will I need to cast a spell?" Harry noticed the change in demeanor, she was serious and had taken his words as the truth.

"You won't need your wand. Jump down and I'll follow after counting to six." According to the way he counted in his head, counting in anything less than multiples of three, in french, was wrong, so he went with six. He just had to repeat un, deux, trois twice.

Daphne just nodded her head, indicating she understood and then went down the pipe. Harry quickly followed her, after completing his counting.

After landing, Harry moved quickly, seeing Daphne was standing and was casting cleaning charms at her clothes.

"Follow me." He simply said and began to make his way to the chamber.

He moved in silence, until they got to the spot where the cave-in had happened. Harry was in the lead, by a good six feet, when he heard rumbling from the cavern roof. He looked up and rocks were falling. Large ones and dangerously, at that.

Harry's wand was in his hand within a half second. He threw up the strongest shield he could manage and yelled at Daphne to back up. As soon as she'd gotten a few feet away no more rocks fell.

Was the cave a defensive mechanism? He'd thought it was the result of a spell, but fallen rocks were barricading the entrance, once again. Did Harry make it through each time he entered and exited the chamber, because he was a parseltongue, or a possible descendant of Salazar Slytherin?

The rocks shouldn't be unstable. Harry was frustrated and frowned as he began to clear them, again. This time he was levitating the rocks so that they would help support the roof. He didn't see where there could be issues but he tried anyway, there were already quite a lot of rocks piled to the roof of the cavern.

When the path was clear he moved back to Daphne.

"Are you trying to get me killed?" She asked, her eyebrow arched and a harsh expression on her face.

"It's never done that to me." He responded levely, ignoring Daphne's ire.

"But it has done it to others?" She challenged back, apparently hearing the omission of information that he'd not disclosed, purposefully.

Harry's free hand rubbed his face. "I don't know. A cave in happened once before, in second year, but a spell hit the roof before it happened. I thought it was that."

Daphne wasn't impressed by his explanation, her arms were crossed and she was glaring at him.

Harry reached into his pocket, he had planned to give it to her once they reached the library but he thought this might fix the issue.

"I'll have an oath from you that you will not reveal information about the Chamber of Secrets and anything you learn without my explicit permission and, further, that you will not leave the Chamber of Secrets, or it's entryway, without returning to me Slytherin's Locket." He withdrew the locket on the chain and held it in his hand, so she could see it.

"You've already given an oath you will provide access, I'll swear no such thing." Her eyes were locked on the locket when she spoke firmly.

"Access is not a fully defined term, there are no qualifiers for what kind of access. I'm providing access, to you, today, but on my terms. If magic finds them unfair, that I broke the intent of my oath, then I'll deal with the consequences of it." He was going to broker no terms on this. This was the Chamber of Secrets, an incredible resource that should not have been given out carelessly.

Daphne smirked at him, "I'm glad you're learning." The way she said it made Harry feel like she would have patted him on his cheek if she could haven't gotten close to him without the roof caving in.

She withdrew her wand and provided an oath Harry could find no fault with. He handed her the locket and let her put it on, the long chain it was on didn't require the clasp to be opened to be put on.

"Ready to try again?" Harry asked, now that she had the necklace on.

She kept her wand out and walked forward. Harry waited with bated breath, his wand pointed over her head, to shield her if it started coming down again.

Timidly she stepped forward, taking small step after small step, he body ready to run back the way she came at the sound of any disturbance. She got passed where Harry thought she had been when it triggered and slowly made her way to him. When she reached him, she grabbed onto him, hugging up against him.

"Never do this to me again, Potter." She hissed at him. "Gryffindors are built for this _recklessness_," she spat the word, "not Slytherins."

Though he wanted to hit back with a sarcastic reply, about this being the chamber built by Salazar Slytherin, he thought better of it and kept his mouth shut. Harry was used to these kinds of harebrained schemes, she clearly wasn't. He really had no idea if the locket would let her in but it made enough sense to get her to try it.

"Come this way, we'll get into the chamber properly."

She didn't release her grip on him and held him as they advanced to the main door. Harry wondered how she would have reacted to the shed skin if he hadn't had Dobby move it into the main chamber. Harry vividly remembered seeing it when he was on the way to rescue Ginny.

They got to the door and harry hissed 'open' in parseltongue.

Daphne looked at him, bewildered, just after he said it. "That was so strange! I heard hissing but… kind of knew… that it meant open, am I right?"

He nodded, "Yes. Can you say it as well?" He recalled that they thought it let the wearer understand and speak parseltongue but Harry thought the latter seemed less likely.

"How do you do it? I don't even know how to try."

"I look at a snake and try and speak in parseltongue, it was hard at first but it's easy now that I've had practice." He told her.

"Ssssss, sss, sss, ssss. Did I say something?" She was excited, it must be a dream come true for a Slytherin student to speak the serpent language for which their founder was famous for speaking.

Harry cackled, "No. You just hissed in english." He managed to say between laughs. It was pretty funny to hear her just randomly hissing. Who'd have thought he'd see a dignified girl like her doing something so silly, not Harry.

"Ow!" Harry exclaimed when a stinging hex caught him in the ribs. He'd felt it coming but not until it was far too late to react, she was far too close. Essentially, he just felt a flash of magic and then light pain.

Reading the mood he made a snap decision to not try and terrify her. "Remember, Daphne," he made sure to have her attention and did his best to convey that his next words were sincere and correct, "anything you see in the chamber is already dead. The rock slide was the only dangerous thing that will attempt to harm you. Just keep the locket on and you'll be fine. The giant ruddy snake is already dead, remember that."

They stepped into the chamber and he could feel Daphne tense up against him. "I- is, is… that… a b- basilisk?!" She had a hard time getting the words out of her mouth.

They were at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets and while they had the whole chamber between them and the snake, it was still incredibly intimidating, even dead. Harry had become used to its presence, he walked past it so often it had lost any sense of it being a spectacle to him.

"Yeah. I killed it when I was twelve." He grinned, knowing what kind of reaction that would cover.

"The year of the petrifications." She whispered. Her head was on a swivel, she was roving her sharp eyes over the entire chamber, her feet frozen.

She let go of him and moved slowly over to a statue of Salazar. "You know, most every Slytherin alumni would kill me to be here in my spot."

Harry quirked his head at the change in phrase. They'd kill her, not kill to be where she is and sadly her specific choice of words was probably more correct.

"This was Slytherin's basilisk?" She asked, though it was merely just seeking confirmation on what she knew to be correct.

"Yes." He humored her with a response. She'd made her way up to the basilisk and was just reaching to put her hand on it.

"Merlin... a real basilisk…. Slytherin's even." She was totally in awe of the creature.

Harry heard the screech, before he saw Cuddles. She was in her normal small form but she was coming out of one of the side tunnels, more than likely returning from a successful rat hunt, how she seemed to love those.

"Potter!" Daphne called out, irate that there was something decidedly _not_ dead.

"Relax," he said dismissively, "it's just Cuddles."

Harry looked to see he was correct in his assumption. In her talons was a rat, still alive and trying to wriggle free. The miniature dragon loved to play with her food.

Cuddles flew overhead and dropped the alive rat in the few feet between Harry and Daphne. Harry closed his eyes, for a full second, his familiar was trying to get him in trouble with Daphne. What kind of moronic move was it to drop a live rat right beside a girl.

Daphne, to her credit, didn't shriek. She was angry, not scared. She watched the rat scurry away, back toward the entry and then, when it had gotten well past Harry, she rounded on him.

She jabbed her finger into his shoulder, "You told me _everything_ was dead. Everything! What is that? Is it Cuddles?" She prodded him every time she finished a sentence too, she was abusive when upset.

"Cuddles is a she," he said stepping back from her, "and she's my familiar." He boasted, he was actually quite proud of her. The only thing he didn't like about her was how she didn't like Hedwig all that much. The owl was permitted to be around but Cuddles wanted all the affection, not that Harry gave in to her wishes.

"I kind of forgot she was off hunting, she does that in the nights…" He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. He didn't mind taking a little abuse, nothing she'd done was remotely harmful.

"What is she?" Harry was amused that curiosity won over the anger or fear that she might have. Even in her small size Cuddles was flying around and spitting fireballs after her prey.

"Officially she's a miniature dragon. I've registered her with Madame Bones. I think she buried the file, or kept it under lock and key, nobody knows about her that I've not told directly, at least that I'm aware of." He was quite grateful to her for that. With her move against Fudge it was a good thing he had established a good working relationship with her. Getting to know Susan better couldn't hurt too. If Daphne and Susan were as close as he thought, then their families, the Bones and Greengrass, might be as well.

Daphne was gobsmacked. Harry wasn't really sure why.

"A magical creature for a familiar." Her eyes were glued to his familiar, even when she swooped down and bit into the charred neck to the rat, it wouldn't live long with the blood leaking out of its neck.

She looked at him searchingly. "You don't get it, do you." Seeing the lack of comprehension she clarified, "What it means to have a magical creature as a familiar."

Harry shook his head. To his knowledge, only Dumbledore had one other than him. He'd heard Riddle had a large snake familiar but it wasn't a basilisk. It might be magical but not a true magical creature, which he assumed Daphne understood it the way Salazar had explained it in his writings.

"Sometimes I forget you can be as clueless as a muggleborn." She said resignedly, softly shaking her head.

Harry shot her a dark look. He didn't like anyone looking down on muggleborns, his own mother was one.

"Don't take that wrong, Harry." She chastised him. "You don't understand these details because you weren't raised in the magical world, like muggleborns. I forget that just because you are from two old families doesn't mean you will understand. House Greengrass isn't for the bigotry against muggleborns," she grinned, "it's bad for business."

Harry rolled his eyes at her last comment. "Sorry, I'm just a little sensitive when Slytherin students talk about anything muggle."

"We're not all Draco." She teased back, keeping the levity between them.

"So what does it mean? What don't I know?" Harry asked after Daphne didn't pick back up on what sparked the minor tiff.

"Only truly remarkable wizards, or witches, have a magical creature as a familiar. Dumbledore is the only modern example, with his phoenix. Salazar Slytherin had a basilisk, Herpo the Foul as well. Merlin was said to have had a Dragon familiar. There are other, dotted through the centuries, but they are only even found with incredibly powerful people."

Harry was a little embarrassed, he still wasn't great at taking compliments but he was buoyed by the fact he was incredibly proud of his familiar. He had thought Hedwig might be one for him but it was nothing like what he had with Cuddles.

"Is it always that size?" She asked, watching Cuddles barbeque the remains of the rat before chomping down on a part of it that was still aflame.

"No, Cuddles is what saved us. She can grow to the size of a small adult dragon, probably larger soon." Harry knew Cyrus had the full details and he would be allowed to tell his heir information that is crucial. Daphne had already provided an unbreakable oath, witnessed by Slughorn, so she was fine to be a little loose lipped around.

"What are you going to do with the basilisk?" She asked, tilting her head in the direction of the beast.

"I don't know, I should probably have it harvested soon. At some point it will decompose and it's probably worth quite a bit of galleons." He hadn't really thought too much about it. Cyrus was running his finances now and he didn't need money immediately. The Potters had a lump sum, which was now being put to good use and the Blacks had gold and several property. He wasn't incredibly wealthy, based of on the gold sitting in the vaults he controlled, but he was well off, for liquidity, and his long term assets were immense, many were just underutilized after not being managed for so long.

"No!" She told him forcefully. "You aren't letting someone else harvest it and sell it all off in parts. Don't you understand mercantilism?!"

"We're English! It's in our blood!" Daphne exclaimed. "Didn't you go to muggle school?! Don't they teach you _anything_ useful there?" She asked incredulously.

Harry shrugged, he wasn't going to get into any topic that might turn into the Dursleys.

"You don't sell raw materials, you buy them! Then you work them into finished goods and then sell them."

Harry stared at her blankley. He kind of got the concept, maybe?

"Okay, an example. Britain has a colony in the Americas. The colony sell beaver pelts, from beavers they trapped. The smart merchant purchases them, brings them back to Britain, makes them into shiny top and and then resells the same hat back for even more pelts, but each hat is bartered to sell for multiple beaver pelts! You buy raw materials for a low cost, rework them, and then sell back the finished goods, for a high profit."

Well that made more sense, Harry thought. He'd heard Vernon complaining that it only cost around sixty percent of the cost of the car for the raw materials and auto parts. The other forty percent was grand larceny!

"So I should harvest it and turn it into finished goods?" He playfully replied.

"No. You have a revered potions master as an advisor, and my father, who is a well connected business man. Let them handle it. You don't need to do everything yourself. You've improved a lot but now you have people you can trust and they would help you."

Harry didn't mind not being the strong personality in the room. Often he was glad he wasn't. He was more introverted than most would expect. He grew up in a broom cupboard and had never been comfortable with his fame in the magical world. Daphne had a strong personality, she liked to have her opinion on things known, Fleur too, to a degree. Natalia wasn't though, she was more reserved and he had to take the lead with her, and he didn't think that was an act, not at all.

He could be assertive, he could be the leader here, he could have told her he knew that the basilisk would take at least a decade to begin to decompose. It was on his mental checklist but wasn't a priority. He'd done some preliminary research and realized just how rare and valuable it was.

"As much as I'd hate to admit it, the Delacours and Pavlova's might have good contacts. There hasn't been a live basilisk for a half century. The last one the ICW allowed to be bred was sickly. It's venom wasn't what it should be, it's eyes didn't kill. You'll probably have to claim that one of your families had it stashed away somewhere, in stasis. The Blacks were always a little mad, they'd be a good choice."

Harry nodded, he hadn't thought of that part yet and he enjoyed letting others give advice. He could act ignorant, sometimes, and get away with it. He already knew how rare having a magical creature for a familiar was. But sometimes he learned things by keeping quiet and letting others talk, educate, and give advice.

"Well, let's get on with it. You'll want to see if you can read any of the books and I've got reading and training of my own to do." Harry moved over to the entry into the hidden area of the chamber and opened the door. He stepped through and Daphne followed him in.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Thanks Harry. That was… magical… and the knowledge… I'll need to study it a lot more but it might help. So thanks, it wouldn't be possible without you." Daphne said after they emerged from back into the second floor lavatory.

Harry could feel his privacy spells, from early that morning, were still active, he didn't need to worry of being overheard, or seen.

She stepped forward, closing the gap between them, and hugged him, her lips finding his cheek. She let her lips linger and maintained her balance on her toes as she whispered into his ear, "I'll take the stairs down, next time."

Harry heard the words and then yelped. She'd shot a point blank ranged stinging hex just under his waist and just over where it would have _seriously_ hurt.

"I won't miss next time, remember that." She said, with Harry not failing to hear the dangerous edge in her voice,

Harry grinned, "You sure you don't want to take the slide? You look pretty cute with a little dirt and grunge on you."

Daphne sniffed, "I always look gorgeous and cute, don't I?"

"Whatever the lady says must be true."

It had been a nicer morning than Harry had anticipated, and it was nice to not be so solitary. Normally he was alone, and for the most part, he still was when he was doing his own reading and spell work. However, there was now someone else with him in the Chamber, even if Daphne had been too engrossed in her reading.

Hadn't that just thrown him for a loop and he'd had a little more power in his target practice, working out his frustration. Daphne only had a single book to read in the entire library. She only had one glowing and it was one which showed blank to him.

He could read the books unlocked to him but he couldn't read the one she had access too.

The locket had worked, as far as comprehending parseltongue, not that he'd told her exactly what it meant for her to be reading in parseltongue, though, for all he knew, it may not work the same since she's not a native speaker.

Regardless, she was reading a book that had a more academic understanding of rituals but apparently didn't have any specific rituals for her to try, unlike the material on rituals he had gained access too.

"Lunch then?" Daphne asked, putting her arm out to be escorted to the Great Hall. They were coming a little late to it but both had had a busy and productive morning. The way Daphne could lose herself in reading a book reminded him of Hermione.

There were some regrets that he had this year. Handling his friendship with Hermione was one of them. She'd been stalwart, she'd been a rock, since the troll incident. He didn't think she'd fit into the advisory team, nor would she fit in great with all the politics. But, aside from questioning him putting the cup in, and berating him for disappearing, he didn't feel, anymore, that she'd done enough to warrant his silence.

It wasn't intentional, in so much as to be callous, as it was just an oversight. He'd gotten so busy, studying magic, learning to dance and everything else since the Yule Ball. He hadn't seen her in the Great Hall and he'd not been around the castle, nor even stepped foot in a classroom, since he'd stopped being a student.

Just before they stepped out of the privacy charms, he planned on removing them after they'd left, Harry stopped Daphne. She would be in classes with Hermione and he could just ask her.

"I haven't seen Hermione for a while and wanted to talk to her. Has she just been spending all her time in the library? I never see her at meal times, whenever I'm there."

Something flashed across Daphne's face. Harry didn't know if she disliked Hermione or not.

"She's… not here any longer." Daphne said, slowly.

"Not here? What does that mean?" Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowing and a frown forming.

"She transferred, to Ilvermorny... She was attending classes here, for a while, since Yule, but that just stopped. I'd heard she was regularly leaving the school but I haven't seen her since just before the task." Daphne gently told him.

Harry's brain crashed. He was trying to figure out if he heard what he thought he had just heard. Hermione had left Hogwarts? Without even letting him know? No way.

"No. She wouldn't leave without sending a letter, at the very least." Harry stated resolutely.

Daphne gave him a pitying smile. "Ask McGonagall or Dumbledore? They'd know for sure. You can ask them at lunch."

Harry nodded and moved forward, with Daphne, in a daze. This wasn't something he expected to hear.

The second they got out of the bathroom there was a house elf standing in front of them, as if on watch duty for the entrance. The two of them stopped, abruptly, making sure to not run the little creature over.

"Headmaster be having you see him right aways. It be open to yous." It said to the two of them.

Daphne and Harry shared an ominous look. By silent agreement they would be going to Dumbledore's office.

"Thanks, we'll go there now." Harry told the elf and it popped away.

They didn't exchange any words as they quickly made their way to their destination. Harry knew the Chamber had some way of keeping itself secret and Daphne's oath would cover her ability to divulge information about it. This left just him and Harry was becoming quite skilled at occlumency and not giving away information.

They climbed the stairs and Harry felt his anxiousness build with every step, the sound of their feet padding on the stones and their breathing was all that was to be heard. When they reached the door Harry knocked.

"Come in." Harry heard Dumbledore's voice come from within.

He opened the door for Daphne and ushered her in first.

"Father?" Daphne said, before she even got to taking her second step into the room.

"Ah, yes, do come in, Miss Greengrass." The headmaster called out, gesturing to two open chairs.

Harry made his way in and saw Cyrus was sitting there already, the man looked like he'd been having a bad day.

Once both teens were seated Dumbledore began speaking. "I had you summoned here because Miss Greengrass has appeared to be missing since shortly after five in the morning. When your father showed up, claiming you were missing, about an hour ago."

Daphne looked down at her hand and she took off a ring that was on her pinky finger, a smaller delicate ring. She handed the ring to Cyrus and he silently asked Dumbledore for permission to use his wand. Once it was received, he cast a few spells at it before delivering the results.

"It's inert. The tracking charms are gone. They've been stripped, we'll have to get this fixed, immediately."

He stood and gestured for Daphne to do the same. "We'll be off, I'll return my daughter later today." Cyrus stated abruptly.

"Harry" Cyrus said, as he exited the room.

Daphne hugged him, awkwardly as he was sitting, and she stayed bent over so she could whisper in his ear. "Thanks for today. Be careful."

When the two had exited the office Dumbledore looked at Harry, he somehow was aware that Harry wanted to ask about what had just happened but he would be the one to initiate it.

"Cyrus was concerned because Daphne's ring with a tracking charm stopped functioning?" Harry guessed at the situation, opening the conversation between the two of him.

Harry didn't feel like the man in front of him was some kind of great enemy but the trust he used to have in the man had been replaced by wariness. He wasn't sure what Dumbledore had been trying to do with him and knew he was brilliant, both at magic and politics. He felt apprehensive in his presence, he hadn't been exactly kind to Dumbledore in his press conference remarks…

"Most of the pureblood families make those rings for their children. They are more than just a tracking charm, though that is one of their functions." Dumbledore began to explain. "The rings function as a monitor, they are designed to ensure the parents can monitor their health and can find them at will. Some are charmed to be able to do more elaborate things, like tell if they are in trouble or not. The Weasley clock is an example of something similar."

Harry had always been impressed by the Weasley clock. Being able to tell where family members were, and whether they were in peril or not, was rather useful.

"Are they just charms then, sir?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard before answering. "Charms, runes and rudimentary blood magic. Miss Greengrass will need to willingly give blood and runes are used to connect her, and her ring, to the monitor."

"And it stopped working today? Is that common? Wouldn't they be more… robust?" Harry couldn't really understand how the magic would have failed so poorly today.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled when spoke his last query. "Indeed, they usually are. Most curiously this is the fourth time this has occurred since you've been at Hogwarts." He mused aloud.

"Would you be able to tell me who the others were, sir?" Harry was curious, something was nagging at him within his mind, and he felt like he was missing something here, though he had no idea what.

"Normally I cannot say," his eyes were shining with unmasked amusement, "however, I can tell you that you are one of them."

"You had one of them on me?" Harry demanded to know, he didn't feel comfortable with that idea.

"In a manner of speaking… You see, Harry, the only way to make them is with direct familial connections. Your parents had one made for you and I was able to make use of it until it stopped functioning at the end of your second year." Dumbledore talked in an even tone, almost like he was giving a mild lecture to the class.

"Was that why you didn't bother to check on me growing up?" Harry wasn't sure it was the time for such a tactless question but he'd wanted to know.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and waited before he answered. "Yes and no." He answered after a half minute, the waiting was killing Harry.

"I didn't once fear for your life, however, I did have you watched. Mrs Figg would even babysit from time to time. She was my contact and she was paid to keep an eye on you. As a squib, she fit right into the muggle neighborhood…"

"Mrs Figg, the lady with all the cats that would baby sit me, she's a squib?" Harry couldn't believe it. The batty old cat lady, that everyone knew was at least a little _off_, who babysat him, occasionally, was paid to check up on him. If she was supposed to check up on him, why didn't she ask him questions or report the abuse of his aunt, uncle, and cousin?

"I've since come to learn her mental facilities are not quite right. She's actually in the Janus Thickey Ward for long-term spell damage. In the previous war she was a valuable coordinator, skilled with noticing details and she had a knack for finding things others wouldn't." Dumbledore commented, his tone somewhat weary, as if the memory was weighing on him.

"I see…" Harry thought the Headmaster had just dumped him on the doorstep and never checked up on him, well he had… but there was more to it, even if it was still negligent, if not criminal. As much as he might like to pursue that avenue of legal action against the man, it was probably better to hold that card then to actually play it. He doubted it would come to much, on its own, but an ace in the hole, to couple with something else in the future… Harry thought that was better.

"Do you mind if I ask what happened to her? She's in a spell damage ward…"

"It was public knowledge at one point, not that many would now recall. She was caught in a Death Eater raid, a random one, not one targeted for any more than wanton destruction. She was tortured until resistance showed up." His eyes had darkened when recounting the incident.

"I have made mistakes, Harry. I'm not infallible. The consequences of my mistakes are often not borne by me. I knew you'd be in for a long first decade of your life. Your aunt and your mother didn't get along but what choice did I have?" The way he asked either meant he was an incredible actor or truly genuine in his regret. He took off his half-moon spectacles and wiped his eyes.

"After that night, it was chaos. Death Eaters were turning themselves in, claiming to be imperiused victims, attacks on the Longbottoms and others. Pettigrew dead, Sirius a betrayer and Remus broken by the loss of all his close friends. The Bones family losing Edgar and his wife, the McKinnons wiped out and where you'd be placed in the wizarding world was unpredictable. While many good families would try and claim your guardianship…"

"I had a double check on you. If either should fail the other would have ensured your safety. I thought I had two coverages and didn't take into account the shortcomings of both. Your monitor was for location and would only notify me if you were in critical condition. The magic never felt your life was going to end, without assistance, and the location was fine. With Figg's reports I believed you to be having a normal life. You attended school and were seen regularly…" He trailed off before adding one final thought.

"It may not have been the best home but you were alive and safe. I've investigated your upbringing since and am beyond ashamed at what I found. I do need to apologize to you, Harry, my failure ensured you had a more difficult life than I'd have wished."

Harry thought Dumbledore was sincere, he was affected by his own words and Fawkes had taken to softly crooning on his shoulder.

"What families might have taken me in?" Harry asked.

"It's hard to say… It should have been Sirius or the McKinnons. After them it's murky. Normally an orphaned child goes to the next of kin that is magical. But you were the last Potter and your mother a muggleborn. The ministry may have looked at a member of the Black family but that is not clear either. Lucius had been 'imperiused' and they'd never have put you with a suspected Death Eater. Andromeda was removed from the Black family so she might not have been considered either. It would have come down to politics, and possibly bribery."

Sadly Harry didn't think it would have been different than Dumbledore was saying. With Sirius out of the picture he didn't have any close relations. Arcturus was known to be in poor health and retired from public life. It might have been the best option…

"What about Arcturus Black, we he considered?" Harry asked, curious to how Dumbledore would respond. With all of his family members being known Death Eaters Harry couldn't imagine it was a possibility.

"Arcturus?" Dumbledore parroted it back as a question, his chen moving back and his eyes bulging slightly when Harry asked about the previous Head of the Black family.

"He made me a Son of House Black. Would there not have been a claim there?"

"Not with his health, no. He'd have a strong claim if he could have proven suitable as a primary caregiver." Dumbledore frowned as he considered it. "He didn't press for it, that I'm aware of…"

"I just wondered..." Harry was fishing for information. He didn't like that Dumbledore was leading the entire conversation. "He set me as the Regent Black in his will. I'd have thought he might have liked some say in my upbringing if he was choosing me over other candidates that many would consider better options…"

For all Harry knew, he wanted nothing to do with his upbringing after raising children who joined a mad man.

"Hmmm… I can't say with certainty… but I'd think he wanted to change the image of his family. Having you lead it would be a complete break from the previous generations that had tarnished them. He'd allied with the Potters and had been moving their political viewpoint toward neutral. There had even been speculation on aligning closer to the Potters."

Dumbledore rubbed his chin in thought. "It's possible he didn't want to interfere, but who's to say?"

Harry didn't mind the lull in conversation. It gave him an opportunity to bring out Cuddles. His little dragon loved to spend time with Fawkes. He thought she might enjoy seeing him again.

Fawkes took flight and lunged at Cuddles, whom had just taken off, grabbing the smaller dragon with his talons. Both of them disappeared in a flash.

Harry blinked, shocked that his familiar was now missing.

Dumbledore was smiling, genially. "Well isn't that something. The wonders of magic."

"Did you know Fawkes could do that to a miniature dragon?" Harry asked, still stunned by what he'd seen.

"No," the headmaster responded, "but Fawkes does transport myself and other magical objects."

That made sense, though Harry did think that magic doesn't always make sense so it's a bit of an oxymoronic thought to have. He wondered if Fawkes could do that to her when she was a large dragon…

"It's probably for the best. There were a few things I was hoping to discuss, Harry, if you wouldn't mind, of course." Dumbledore had sat a straighter and had leaned forward while asking, his friendly tone remained.

Harry's eyes narrowed. He could feel some tension in his gut. "What were you hoping to discuss?" Harry asked, he had to work to keep the evidence of their strained relationship out of his voice.

"Do you mistrust me so?" His efforts hadn't hidden it from the old, distinguished politician. "Does my mere presence put you on edge?" He sat back in his chair.

"I know I'm responsible for many things that have been for ill but none have been malicious. I've always sought to aid you. With Voldemort gaining strength, I hoped to assist you and give you advice. We'll have to stand against him. By working together we can defuse his plots and end him for good."

There was a portentousness to his delivery that Harry was having a hard time placing. Was it a sense of foreboding or a more serious statement of fact? Was he trying to use fear and the threat of Voldemort coming back to bring him closer or was it a statement made from pragmatism, giving way to a logical conclusion, of them working together against a common foe?

"What kind of advice, sir?" He'd been careful to show respect and deference. Albus Dumbledore was a man who should not be underestimated. Though many did not like him, none dared to seriously cross him. They might play at politics, or push him now and again, but nothing too serious. Lucius working to get him sacked, during the attacks in second year, were about the most blatant, and even that attempt was short lived.

"Your education to start with." He smiled at Harry.

"My education? I thought it was going rather well, to be honest, sir."

"From the results you've achieved I would say it is. However, we do have some of the foremost experts working within the castle. Even if you are not regularly attending classes I would have expected you to have at least taken the opportunity to request to work with them directly. McGonagall and Flitwick had been most perturbed by your lack of enthusiasm in working with them in the last staff meeting." His eyes shone with amusement when delivering the last part.

"I will speak with them. It's just been rather busy of late." It was true and, yet, not true. He'd been really busy, he just hadn't prioritized it. He had thought more towards finishing all his OWLs and then talking to them.

"Yes, so I've seen." Dumbledore reached into his desk and grabbed a stack of newspapers, splaying them out on the desk in front of Harry.

_ **Multiple Deaths at Triwizard Tournament** _

_Shocking news out of Hogwarts as two high ranking Ministry of Magic Officials have been confirmed dead. Sources have indicated that…._

_ **MInister Fudge Under Fire** _

_Following the deadly Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament Minister Fudge was under fire for abuse of authority and miscarriages of authority. Lucius Malfoy, a well known patron of the man, was, himself, caught up in the controversy. Harry Potter gave live testimony that the Minister had Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwarts' Care of Magical Creatures Professor, incarcerated and that Sirius Black was his godfather and innocent of the crimes he was imprisoned for._

_Minister Fudge's office has been unreachable and has not given a direct comment. Amelia Bones, the Director of Magical Law Enforcement indicated all the claims will be reviewed. As Harry Potter was not under oath his statements are not considered testimony…._

_ **Potter's Probe Proving Pivotal** _

_Harry Potter is once again in the limelight but not for something to do with exceptional grades or the offing of a Dark Lord. No, this time he is acting reminiscent of a young Charlus Potter. The man revered across Europe for bringing aid to the war against Grindelwald's tyranny. Charlus Potter famously fought and left the ICW forces after a highly distinguished service record. But it wasn't his on-the-battlefield actions which endeared him to the people of Europe..._

Harry didn't get to fully see the names of who wrote which articles and which papers they were with. Dumbledore had over a dozen on display in front of him. He'd tried to read some of the articles but hadn't been able to read beyond the opening sentences in each article.

"Have you kept up on the papers? They've had quite a lot to say."

Harry looked back up at the headmaster.

"If you were trying to reinvigorate the Potter name across the wizarding world, you've done that. Is that your goal? More fame, familial reverence?"

"Familial reverence? I don't even know what you are getting at." Harry didn't like the sound of more fame. He wasn't doing anything to gain attention.

"No? The Potters are famous for it. Charlus lambasted the Wizengamot for failure to assist with Grindelwald. He was just carrying on the legacy of your answers. I know you've claimed headship, you haven't learned your family history?"

Harry shook his head, not answering the question. It wasn't Dumbledore's business if he'd been studying his family history or not. He could criticize what he said if he wanted but he had no right to answers about his family business.

"Are you doing it for power? You've ensured Amelia Bones will be Minister now. I know you'd met with her." Dumbledore's tone was sharp now.

"For power? How could you think that?!" The words were unsettling in his mind.

"Easily, don't think I've failed to notice the changes in you. Engaging in rituals, taking major leaps in your magical ability, and you're suddenly involved with politics." He quickly rattled off three major changes in Harry.

"People have already noted the Black family holdings are active, more than they've been in decades. Lawsuits have been launched to capture funds from using your likeness and name without permission. You've dropped your friends longtime friends, refused the Weasley Christmas invite and begin associating closely with the Delacour, Pavlov and Greengrass, that's not even mentioning the Bones and Abbott girls too."

Dumbledore didn't pause, he kept going, not giving Harry a chance to respond.

"You're building your brand across Europe, destroying careers with callous words and the reason that Crouch, Bagman, and Karkaroff are dead."

Harry had been getting angrier and angrier at all these out of context accusations. The last one though, stopped that. He blinked, once, twice and a third time. What had Dumbledore just accused him of? Being the reason those three were dead?!

"How do you figure that? I didn't force them to make the oaths, I didn't plan the task _and_ I didn't force the spiders to try and murder helpless hostages and teenage students." Harry spat back with vehemence.

"Oh, but you did." Dumbledore stated smugly.

Harry stared at him confused yet still simmering in indignation.

"Aragog knew you had to believe it was real. What kind of task would it be if there wasn't any element of danger. The hostages wouldn't be touched but the spiders were permitted to harm you but not lethally. Impede and batter, not maim and harm."

Harry scoffed. "You know…. You make an excellent point. I commanded them to string up the hostages and inject them with a paralytic venom. Then I told them all to attack me. I was just bored and itching for a fight. Really, I mean, Cuddles was hungry and I too was craving roasted giant spider legs. They've become a delicacy for us, you know? I just couldn't deny her." He mocked him back, using speaking sarcastically and rolling his eyes at Dumbledore.

"The DMLE asked for a memory of the event. Amos Diggory convinced his son to provide one, though he refused to give the entire memory. I was fortunate enough to be able to see it... And do you know what I saw, Harry?" Dumbledore was leading him on, he could feel he was building to something but Harry didn't know what it was.

Harry didn't respond, he wasn't going to just play along and dance to his tune. He'd tell Harry or he'd not get his big point across.

"I saw a conversation. I saw you talk with Aragog. Then, then, you murdered him."

Harry was far too surprised by the accusation to respond, his jaw unhinged and he listened in disbelief, the accusation was utterly ridiculous.

"Not a single spider had harmed you, not a _single one_ had taken action against you. Instead of trusting that we'd setup a clean task you killed the leader of the colony. You caused them to go beserk and all control to be lost. It was Cedric cutting the hostages down that caused the venom, embedded in the sacs, to be injected into the hostages."

Harry sat back, deeply into his chair. Was that true? Was Aragog baiting him for the task and nothing more? They had an acromantula acting? Acromantula were certainly intelligent enough but did Harry believe the story?

"It was near your age that Tom Riddle dabbled in rituals; he, too, took unnatural leaps in magical ability. He became active in politics... and began accumulating wealth. He sought to end confrontations with aggressive usage of his wand. It was then that he sought the guidance of Horace Slughorn…" Dumbledore casually threw out the poignant comparison.

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it, Harry?" Dumbledore pressed, his soft voice and cutting.

"You're walking a dangerous path. I hope you know what you are doing with the rituals because they were banned for a reason. Magical imbalance _will_ destroy you." The way the man expressed his concern made it clear he doubted Harry had any idea he knew what he was doing. It was correct, he had no idea, but the designer of the ritual set did.

Harry was seething. Being compared to Riddle... He'd not been aggressive, he'd not been a bully.

"If you'd do your damned job I wouldn't be in this predicament! It is _your job_ to protect your students! It was _your job_ to keep underage students _out_ of this Merlin forsaken tournament! Don't sit here and lecture me, telling me I'm going after power! Comparing me to Riddle!"

Harry wasn't sure when he'd stood but he was now leaning over the desk, his clenched fists on the desk.

"I'm just trying to stay alive!" He shouted at the Headmaster. "You can't protect me, you keep employing Death Eaters! You keep letting Voldemort make attempts on my life. What am I supposed to do?! Huh?! Keep letting him take runs at me until I'm dead, under your watch?"

The anger he had kept suppressed was unleashed, the dam broke and there was no containing it.

"I'm just trying to stay alive." He felt his anger wash out of him as he slumped back into his chair.

Dumbledore didn't say anything for some time. He let Harry collect himself first.

"Many bad deeds have been done with the best of intentions." Dumbledore said gently.

Harry shook his head. He wasn't going to listen to this sanctimonious shite when the man spewing it was directly responsible for forcing him into a position where he's had to fight for himself. Where was this support when the whole school turned on him?

Harry knew, he knew exactly what this was: a guilt trip.

"Aragog was going to kill me. He tried to kill us in second year. He had our escape blocked, the hostages weren't even struggling in their sacs, the paralytic was probably already in their system. A Death Eater was impersonating your friend and I'm finding out my place in this world. I'm taking advantage of opportunities to gain allies. So that if and when Riddle comes back, I'll be as ready as I could possibly be. So that the next plot he has on my life won't touch me. I'm protecting myself because nobody else seems capable, especially you." Harry sneered at him.

He was going to let Dumbledore respond when he had a pertinent thought: why was he still here listening to this?

He stood, interrupting whatever Dumbledore was going to say.

"You're right about one thing though. I am gaining power but it's not for the sake of power. I'm doing everything I can to make sure I'm not the last Potter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In before those people tell me I butchered mercantilism in the chapter. Author's can write characters that misrepresent information. Daphne's fourteen not an Econ major.
> 
> I got a discord request from like a peter something, I only got a momentary glance at it, and when I clicked the notification it didn't load. I closed the app and re-opened it and there were no pending friend requests. So if you that was you and you thought I rejected your friend request try again, it was a tech error not me being an arse.
> 
> By request I've added a server on discord for the fic: discord. gg / KCkSTUn I threw a couple spaces in so it won't be deleted by FF, remove them.
> 
> Thanks to Nauze for the beta work and to all those who have commented, given Kudos and subscribed!


	29. Cereal Talks

Fawkes was an amazing creature. Harry already knew this, phoenixes were magically potent and had incredible abilities. But it wasn't those that he was dwelling on. Fawkes and Cuddles had been playing around, with Cuddles chasing after Fawkes, and the second he got to the Chamber, he'd recognized the mood Harry was in, not a good one.

He wanted to rage and blast statues. The fucking sanctimonous arsehole Dumbledore tried comparing him to Riddle! The man who murdered his parents and tried to kill him as a baby! A person so feared for his despicable actions that a whole society is afraid to say his name.

And Dumbledore had the gall to say Harry was like him?

It really had upset him. He'd lost his cool and couldn't be in the same room with that old codger! Harry had thrown on his actual invisibility cloak and quickly descended to the place he felt was his place of solace and solitude.

Fawkes' song was a balm to his soul.

The magical tune calmed him, levelled out his emotions. It felt like the sun breaking through on a cold cloudy day, the warmth and brightness finding a way to get through the cold and dreary day.

He'd needed to stop reacting and start thinking.

Cuddles landing on him and snuggling up against his cheek affectionately was appreciated too. His familiar understood what he was feeling. It was interesting that he and Fawkes got on so well. The bird would always be special to him, it was here, in this room, that he'd saved Hary's life. You don't forget that.

Harry waved them off, hoping they'd return to their games. He enjoyed watching them and could use the distraction while everything percolated in his mind.

Fawkes flashed away, flaming to the far side of the cavern. Cuddles was already pursuing, merrily screeching her war calls. Fawkes dipped and dived, gracefully flying through the air, banking around pillars and using statues to hold off Cuddle's pursuit. With the dragon being much smaller she couldn't keep up but Fawkes enjoyed teasing the smaller being.

A smile crept across Harry's face. He leaned back, his two palms behind him, holding up his upper body. It was mesmerizing to watch. He couldn't help but wonder who else had ever seen anything like this, a phoenix playing tag with a dragon.

What was he going to do with himself? He hadn't eaten, which had been the plan for going up into Hogwarts in the first place. He could easily have Dobby sort that out but he was yearning to get out. If he stayed here he'd go back to blasting things with magic. He didn't want to stew in his anger, to brood.

His mind supplied to possibilities, visiting Natalia or going to talk with Sirius and Remus. He could go and talk with Fleur, if she was available, but the Delacour family didn't think too highly of Dumbledore. They had a grudging respect for him, for defeating Grindelwald, but he didn't actively tried to help Europe deal with the man in the same way Harry's own grandfather had been.

Slughorn might be a good option but he was also the same person who told Voldemort about horcruxes. His moral compass was not one Harry wished to emulate. Cyrus could be an option but he was busy sorting out Daphne's tracer ring. How had that even happened? Did the Chamber of Secrets strip it off? Does it protect its location from being tracked?

Harry shook his head and focused back on the aerial maneuvering of Fawkes and Cuddles. His little familiar was getting frustrated and shooting plumes of fire at the phoenix. It didn't deter Fawkes though, if anything, it made the majestic bird more daring, dodging the dragonfire or flashing away just as it reached him. The amused trills made it clear he was enjoying it.

Who did that leave Harry to talk with? The Weasley family was famously loyal to Dumbledore, Hermione was apparently gone... How had that even happened? He would need to find that out.

That really just left visiting Natalia, not that he would ask for their opinion on Dumbledore's words, or visiting with Sirius and Remus, if they were available. Given Sirius' status as a fugitive, he probably was home.

Before he left, he'd get Dobby to fetch some food and enjoy the show, it was brightening his spirits.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

If there was one thing which could brighten his day, it would be messing with Sirius. With his cloak he thought he'd be capable of some shenanigans. That had led to Harry apparating, under his cloak, to his godfather's home and sneaking into the home, as quietly as he could.

He didn't really have a solid plan in place, no pranking materials with him, but he was good at making plans on the fly.

Huh, on the fly.

With a plan in mind, he withdrew Cuddles from his bag and set her down. Enlarging her, slowly, until she was far too large for the room.

Harry grins, pleased with his idea. He'd cast the human detection charm, wordlessly and without wand motion and is chuffed to see the results, two humans are upstairs.

"Oi, godfather, is this how you treat your favorite godson?!" He yelled up the stairs in mock outrate, a minor amplification charm enhancing the decibel level of his voice, ensuring the mutt and wolf should be able to hear him.

Harry quickly throws out two charms, one to deaden the scent coming out of the room, knowing Padfoot and Moony have an excellent sense of smell, and another to deaden any noise coming out of the room, Harry would have to step into the stairway to be heard now.

"Harry? Is that you?" Sirius calls back down, surprise noticeable in his voice.

"Yeah. I'll be in the kitchen." He tries to keep the excitement out of his voice, belaying any suspicion.

Harry quickly darts back around the corner and conjures a large glass barrier. His wand is flicking here and there, a mile a minute. Each flick is another flame proof charm. He doesn't want to burn the home down, afterall.

Harry heard the steps down the stairs, they were up on the third floor, or higher. They descended into the final set of stairs and Harry hid around the corner, ready to give the mental command to Cuddles.

The second Harry caught sight of movement, he gave the command 'burn them'.

Cuddles' large maw opened, a deep breath was sucked in, slitted eyes focused on the target and the whole room was bathed in the light of the dragon's fire.

Harry opened his eyes, having shut them due to the brightness of the flames, and saw a cowering Sirius and Remus. Both had their wands drawn and were in the fetal position, their heads down.

Harry placed his left hand on Cuddles and shrunk her down to normal size.

Cuddles had fired into conjured glass, glass he had become exceedingly good at conjuring. It wasn't regular ones, it was what Harry had been using to protect himself during experiments with Dragon Fire. Normal glass had to be charmed multiple times to enable it to resist the heat. He'd shot a couple extra ones, not wanting to risk the lives of his father's best friends.

He saw them both and began to laugh, loud and long.

When he could find a chance to spell cast, not easily, he began vanishing the glass he'd used to protect himself, but not the glass keeping the two marauders away.

"You always kills us!" Sirius exclaimed, still shell-shocked from coming around a corner and almost being burnt to death.

Harry laughed, in reality, Cuddles had just shot one torrent of flame, if she actually had tried to light up the room, as she did in the forest, the whole house would be burning in _very_ short order.

Harry just laughed some more, giddy that he managed to scare the stuffing out of both of them.

Remus stood up and brushed himself off, looking a little shaken still. "I don't think we've been scared this bad since Lily was pregnant. Her temper, pregnancy hormones and a wand..." He shuddered at the memory.

Sirius was now standing and glaring at his godson. "You know this means payback right."

Harry smiled and slowly turned his gaze onto Cuddles, the little dragon was happily resting on his shoulder, tail falling behind his neck.

Harry brandished his wand, once more, and removed the final alterations to the room, allowing them to be able to step further into the room.

Sirius moved forward and gave his godson a hearty hug. Remus quickly followed up with a hug of his own, after Sirius released him.

"What brings you here to visit little ol' us?" Sirius asked, grinning. "There aren't beautiful birds to win over here."

Harry groaned, of course Sirius was going to bring up his complicated situation with Natalia and Fleur.

Remus, thankfully, moved the conversation away, right away. "So what brings you here, Harry. Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts or studying with your mysterious tutor?" Given the wording of the question one might have thought it was a recriminating question, but it wasn't. Remus was simply genuinely curious as to why Harry was here. He normally visited in the evenings, not during the day.

"We're gonna get right into it right away?" Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Is something wrong? We know all about the task." Sirius said, a look of concern being levelled at Harry.

"No? Yes? I don't know." Harry was pulling his hair, his fist clenched against his scalp, as he finished talking.

"Maybe start with what's bothering you?" Remus suggested gently.

Sirius ushered them all into the informal sitting area. Harry slumped into a chair and thought about what he was going to say.

Sirius was looking at him with unveiled worry, most times Harry came over, he was in a great mood, this was abnormal. Remus was quiet in his chair, looking on, letting Hary start things.

When Harry didn't open up, the two men had remained quiet and had given him the opportunity, Sirius inquired.

"Was it the Second Task? We've read the papers and have heard, from Dumbledore, all about it."

Harry scowled at the mention of the _venerable_ old wizard. That was the last thing he needed, two people that should be firmly on his side subverted by the machinations of the bearded bastard.

"Yes, partly." Harry said. He was thinking through how he wanted to approach it.

"Which parts?" Remus asked when Harry didn't continue.

"All of it." Harry laughed, not humorous though, it was darker and self depreciative.

"There was _another_ Death Eater in the castle, teaching students and doing only Merlin knows what else! Then they decided, insisted even, on using hostages! Why couldn't they have just used mannequins, or made us retrieve something else?" Harry's voice was rising, he could feel a surge of anger within him at how ridiculous their decisions were. Even if Dumbledore was right, even if the acromantula wouldn't have attacked, if he hadn't killed Aragog, the entire situation could, and should, have been avoided.

"Wasn't the thing forced upon them by an imperiused Barty Crouch, the former Death Eater Karkaroff and Bagman's betting?" Remus asked, giving an idea of how much Dumbledore had shared with the two.

Harry snorted. "Sure, but you're telling me that going into the Black Lake to rescue hostages who would be held underwater was a much better idea? Why did they even need to endanger anyone else by having hostages for the task?" There were several problems with the Tournament Organizing Committee but they should have stopped anything like this from happening, his interference or no.

"It's tradition. One task always has hostages being rescued." Sirius interjected before Remus could respond, drawing the eyes of Harry to him.

"Tradition? Really? That's the excuse? Should we return to raiding Africa to get black slaves? Re-enact the Crusades. May as well revive Witch Burnings and Muggle Hunts while we are at it. Maybe I'll go see if Bloodfang wants to incite another Goblin Rebellion, you know, for _traditions_ sake." Harry was scathing in his rejoinder. It was a bit rich coming from Sirius of all people, the man who turned away from his family, not that it was necessarily the wrong decision.

Sirius raised his hands, palms out, "Calm Harry, calm. I'm just telling you _why_ they kept hostages as a part, not that I agree with it."

Harry nodded and took a deep breath. He counted, un, deux, trois, and let himself settle. He was still worked up from earlier and he could feel he was quick to snap and lose his temper.

"My point still stands," he said, after he'd found his equilibrium, "it was unnecessary and shouldn't have been planned in the first place. Using Acromantula was a terrible idea as well." Harry wasn't going to ever agree that the planning of this tournament had been remotely competently planned.

"Hagrid isn't doing too good, so we hear, we haven't seen him." Remus said quietly. "Aragog was his first pet. He'd given Hagrid his word they wouldn't kill anyone, that they'd protect the hostages." Remus spoke in a low register and Harry didn't hear any recrimination in his tone, though he could feel it building to that.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Harry replied, actually feeling what he'd said. Hagrid was a good bloke. Misguided in his understanding of how dangerous magical creatures were to persons other than him… He was his savior from the Dursleys and, for that, he'd be grateful forever to Hagrid, for the rescue.

"The memory showed you killed Aragog, Harry. The spell was fired before any action had taken place against you." And there it was. The poisoned words of Albus Dumbledore being repeated by a man who should be his pseudo uncle.

Harry shook his head, he'd known they'd get to discussing what was said but he hoped to bring it up, to frame the conversation, not have to battle the preconceptions that Dumbledore had already implanted in their minds.

"Does the memory tell you what was said? Does it tell you the full context, about our previous confrontation? Does it mention the riddle that was used to give us a hint of what we'd be doing for the task?" Harry knew it probably didn't, well, he wasn't sure about the conversation though.

"We don't know, Albus didn't tell us." Sirius didn't hesitate to reply.

"Well then, let me enlighten you to what he withhold from you." Harry sneered. "That Arargog tried to have his sons and daughters feast on Ron and I. He only talked to us because we were a friend of Hagrid's, the protection didn't extend to leaving. Secondly, the bastard spider mocked me, and told us he wouldn't harm the hostages, that was all he'd agreed to. He was looking forward to getting me this time, my friends too. He dropped the Ford Angelina, the one that had saved Ron and I in second year, blocking our escape." Harry took a breath, he was speaking so fast he wasn't breathing between words or thoughts.

"Thirdly, the hint inferred they'd die if we didn't save them. Oath or no oath, none of us wanted to take chances with them. That's not even getting into how the hostages were not moving and probably already paralyzed."

"What do you mean by the last point?" Remus asked, he looked to be actively considering Harry's points.

"Look, the way I heard it, the judges didn't all collapse at once. There was time between the first and the last one. Secondly, testimony said they collapsed before smoke was visible. Dumbledore claimed Cedric's actions caused them to be injected with venom. All four of them dropped at once." He imitated the dropping motion and slapped his hand on the armrest, making a loud noise.

"All of them would have been punished at the same time if Dumbledore was right." Harry used the logical reasoning to dispel Dumbledore's.

Harry could see Sirius was nodding, Harry hoped he'd dispelled Dumbledore's ideas in his mind, by breaking down one of his arguments.

"That may be the case…." Remus started slowly, his tone indicating it was a plausible theory, "sometimes poisons affect different people at different times… The time discrepancy could be caused by that…"

Harry arched his eyebrow, he was more than skeptical of that explanation. Even with age differences, from Gabrielle to Mrs Krum, he didn't think it should have been so varied.

"At the end of the day, this is a pretty simple concept. If they put me into a position where there are people's lives at risk, where there are predators known for eating wizards, don't be so fucking surprised when I take the initiative to make sure me or mine doesn't die!" If Cuddles wasn't in his lap he would have stood up when he snapped back at them.

This wasn't a very complicated situation. Dumbledore could claim and tell the others that Harry's pre-emptive strike set off the whole thing, they could try and posture it so Harry was the aggressor that lit the fuse, but it was far simpler than that, in Harry's mind. Don't put him in life endangering situations and he'd never have to be an aggressor.

Things went a bit awkward. Remus appeared abashed but also was not convinced Dumbledore's assertions were incorrect. Sirius was glancing back and forth, between the two of them, and seemed uneasy.

"Was that all that bothered you about the task?" Sirius said, Harry wondered if he was trying to move things along before they got even more testy.

"Yes," Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I almost died, twice." He hoped that shook them, that this wasn't a boy being aggressive and falling into a path of darkness. This was Harry Potter fighting for his life, time after time. "Without Dragonhide armor I'd be dead."

"H- how?" Sirius was shaken by his blunt statement.

Harry shrugged, he'd come to terms with this by now. "Twice I was hit by an acromantula in the back, I didn't even see it coming. I had four broken ribs, three cracked ones, a punctured lung, a cracked sternum, internal bruising and other various injuries too. If there was enough force for that, imagine if I hadn't had the armor on."

It didn't take any real imagination to understand that the pincers would have ripped through his flesh and delivered a killing blow.

"But the other champions had said you were incredible, that you'd held a whole side on your own and even helped them." Sirius was pale as he tried to reconcile the media report with Harry's tale.

"That doesn't matter. It was nice to get some positive public press but it was real. I almost died, at Hogwarts, again. We were surrounded, all I had was a piercing spell. I had no way to kill multiple spiders at once, no way to take away their number's advantage. I _need_ to fix this. I _need_ to learn battle spells. So the next time I get into that situation, spiders won't get close enough to hit me." He tried to convey how earnest he felt about this. He sure as shit wasn't bring up that Cyrus and Horace want him to learn to fight against Voldemort.

Remus was frowning as he thought, before commenting on what Harry had said. "When would you ever be in a circumstance like that again? Why would you need something like that in the future?"

"No idea. I just know to expect shit like that to happen to me." Harry resisted from snapping back. He could hear exactly what wasn't said. Remus didn't say that he shouldn't learn those kinds of spells explicitly. "I'd never expect and eleven year old to handle the Philosopher's Stone, meet Voldemort and kill a professor in self-defence. I didn't expect to have to kill a basilisk with Godric Gryffindor's sword, nor meet the h-... memory of sixteen year old Tom Riddle."

Harry hoped they didn't pick up on the fact he almost said the word horcrux. He'd not pronounced any of the other syllables and would never tell another soul about it with an unbreakable vow in place first.

Harry kept on going, trying to deflect from the almost horrendous slip of his tongue. "I couldn't have imagined I'd meet an escaped convict from Azkaban, who had apparently escaped to kill me, nor almost had my soul sucked out, multiple times, by dementors. Can you really colour me surprised when _another_ Death Eater is captured operating at Hogwarts and I'm thrust into a tournament where they tried to force us to combat a dragon? A _fucking _dragon. A XXXXX magical beast as the _first_ task."

Harry had to stop for a second and pause here. Having a miniature dragon, he truly was beginning to understand just how deadly a dragon was.

"That prank I played on you two, the fire that Cuddles used, that was her using her _weakest_ flames. The charmed glass is a specialty of mine now. If she actually tried to burn something, you'd not have a home. It's Dragon Fire. The closest thing there is to it is Fiendfyre, demonic fire. It breaks down magical enchantments. Their hide _reflects_ magic. Teams of trained dragon handlers, people that score highly on their NEWTs _and then_ take _years_ of apprenticeship handle them." Harry was leaning forward, not enough to entrap Cuddles, who was still in his lap, enjoying Harry's ministrations, and his voice was heated.

"Dragons, as the first task, was the _epitome_ of unsafe. I know. I have one."

Harry saw both men opening their mouth but he wanted to complete his earlier thought, on just how many life and death situations he had been in and insane it was for them to believe he shouldn't be rained in combat as soon as possible.

"Then the Second Task is sabotaged and they keep it going. I know there is a colony of acromantula in there and they had _already_ tried to kill me once before. When they captured all the hostages and cut off my escape route, I acted. I did what I could to _stay alive_. If they were going to come for me, they'd pay dearly trying to do me in." Harry stared at both men, piercing them with his gaze.

"Tell me again, why would it be a bad idea to learn how to defend myself better? Why I shouldn't be proactive and do everything I can to learn how to protect myself?" He wanted to see what they said, because he had no idea what a single rational reason could be.

"Harry… it's not just that…" Sirius began before appearing to be lost for words, perhaps on how to articulate what he was thinking.

"We're concerned for many reasons and _one_ of the reasons is your desire to learn magic that is dangerous, often considered dark." Remus said quietly. "Nobody is discounting what you have been through." He added, deflating some of Harry's ire.

"Do you know what Dumbledore said today? How he finally told me why I was raised in the cupboard and was never checked on me growing up... That Mrs Figg was damaged in the war and is not in long-term care at Saint Mungos. She was supposed to make sure I was being treated okay."

Harry looked between them and noticed neither were surprised. He frowned and looked at both inquisitively, sitting up a little straighter, so he was less slumped in his chair.

"We know. We checked upon her after hearing what they did to you." Sirius said, a flash of guilt crossing his face.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What else has Dumbledore been saying about me, to you two?"

He didn't like the idea of Dumbledore poisoning his father's friends against him. Two people who should be on his side, full stop, no half measures. If there was Team Harry and Team Dumbledore, they should have their faces painted, be rocking all the gear and know every damn thing there is to know about Team Harry. No waffling, no cheering for the other side. They should be diehards and that was his expectation for them.

It didn't mean they'd never question him, his decisions, or agree with him. It meant they'd support him first and foremost, whether they agree or disagree. He'd not done anything horrible, no murdering, no attacking infants, no crusades on blood purity, that would give them a legitimate reason to not be driving the bus for Team Harry.

"We talk about you, how he's concerned about you." Remus said bluntly.

Harry could feel his indignation rising for a second time today, though there was no Fawkes here to croon this time. Cuddles had slid down into his lap and Harry was slowly running his fingers along her scales, just the way she loved it. His mechanic movements helped keep him under control.

"And what, pray tell, did he say to you that has him so concerned? You two haven't voiced much in the way of worries to me." Harry was deeply displeased with this. He'd come to talk to these two and now he'd have to overcome the perceptions that the headmaster gave them, if they'd even take his word over the supposedly venerable old man.

"We've kept quiet but there have been some things we've wanted to know too, Harry." Sirius said, eyeing his godson wearily.

Harry stared back, keeping his face impassive, waiting for them to just get on and say it.

"Harry, we don't even know who your tutor is. You've gone on dates with a girl from a family that yours wouldn't have approved of and, Dumbledore tells us, you are continuing to take advice from Horace Slughorn and Cyrus Greengrass." Sirius didn't look comfortable as Remus talked, outlining the concerns.

"Cyrus, and his ilk, kept out of the war, they protected their own interests and sat by while good people were murdered, Harry. Horace Slughorn, he was the Head of Slytherin when we were at Hogwarts, a snake of man if there ever was one. Always with the ear of anyone important and, again, taking no part in the war. Hiding, cowering, refusing to get involved. These are the people you turn to for advice?" Remus voiced his concern, much to Harry's resentment.

Harry shook his head. These two were poisoned against him already. Dumbledore was a real fucking arse to do this to him.

"How about this, Moony. You swear, right here, right now, an Unbreakable Oath to support me, to keep my secrets and work against Tom Riddle. To always give me advice that is for my benefit and to never betray me. Would you do that? Would you guarantee your advice and actions? Would you give a _binding_ magical promise on pain of death? So that if you were captured _you_ _would die_before they tried to force secrets out of you?"

"An Unbreakable Oath Harry? Nobody swears those. Especially not for supporting a person." Sirius said it with disgust. "The Order didn't even force that on its members in a time of war." He shook his head, disbelief coloring his tone.

"And that's how Peter fucking Pettigrew happened!" Harry snapped at them.

Neither man spoke up to defend against the assertion. Both had dark looks on their faces and Harry was sorry to have brought up the despicable traitor. He had to get his point across in a way so that they weren't hearing Dumbledore's words in their head when he talked. He had to throw a bucket of ice water on them, to shock their systems and get them to hear his words, not the headmasters.

"My parent's plan had merit. Get a secret keeper nobody would expect, have you as a distraction, Sirius. What they failed to do, and it doesn't make me love nor think of them any less, is secure the only possible information leak that could lead an enemy to their location. If they'd had the _rat,_" he growled the word, "swear an Unbreakable Oath I might have been raised with them."

Harry allowed his words to sink in, to picture what their lives might have been like if they'd taken the steps necessary to protect important information.

"You were losing. You didn't know who you could trust. You _knew_ there was a leak, I've heard you weren't even sure _who _you could trust. Order members were dropping, their families being wiped out. The Ministry was compromised and Riddle's forces were organized, well funded and battle hardened. Is that wrong? Have I been told incorrect information?" Harry wanted to hear it from them. He'd talked with his advisors about the war. He'd gotten information from the Delacours, as to what they knew, and now wanted to hear from two that were in the thick of it.

"I don't want to believe it was that bleak. But, you're not wrong on your points… maybe you're understating our side. We had good people… we were strong and capable, turning back raids, even when outnumbered. And their side had moles too, we had spies in their ranks."

Harry was honestly a little taken aback by his honesty. It was probably a fair opinion. He hadn't stated how they had highly capable wands, how Dumbledore hadn't been defeated even when Riddle ambushed him with his forces assisting. Horace had thought Dumbledore was too good to lose to Riddle but not strong enough to end him.

"Dumbledore's made mistakes. He screwed up my childhood, he's not been able to keep me from life threatening adventures _every single year_ at Hogwarts. Under his leadership, your side was losing and we know Riddle is still around, trying to come back. What is he doing about it? He's not keeping me safe, he's not removing the enemies power, and I don't see him being proactive."

Harry held his hand up, he didn't want to hear a defense of the man. He wanted to complete his thought. It was time they understood his position and decide whether they were going to join him or not.

"You criticize Slughorn and Greengrass for staying out of the way. Well, I'll tell you I'm gathering allies. They are knee deep in it for the next one, they'd have to abandon their homeland to not get involved. I'm seeking out alliances and trying to come up with proactive measures."

Harry looked down and blinked, hard. He tore his gaze off the floor and his eyes were burning with passion now. "This is my life. I'm not letting others run it. I listen, I learn but I decide for me, and not based on what others might think of me. I'm going to stay alive. If I have to walk a darker path than I'd wish, I'll do it, to stay alive."

He loved his parent but he wouldn't become a martyr like them. He'd not become a symbol to rally around at his death, or one that removes the fight out of those who resist Riddle.

"I'll sacrifice, I'll train harder than anyone else because I _won't _be the last Potter." Harry was vehement on this, it was what drove him.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry stood outside of the familiar door. He still remembered the first time he'd entered into the classroom. Him and Ron running late, and wasn't that a little painful to remember, now that he and Ron weren't getting on, and then McGonagall transforming back from her animagus form. It was quite the feat of magic to his eleven year old self. Magic was wondrous and he was so, so very naive.

Harry thought he shouldn't feel so apprehensive and yet he was, his palms were sweaty as he went to enter the Transfiguration classroom and see McGonagall. Harry strode in, waiting a few minutes past the last class of the day. Harry steeled himself and entered.

If she was surprised to see him, McGonagall didn't make any sort of measurable response to his sudden presence. Here eyes caught sight of him entering and she didn't spare more than a cursory look until she had finished writing with her quill.

"Mister Potter." She greeted him, as stern as ever.

"Hello Professor." Harry responded politely as he strode between the desks.

"Albus mentioned I'd be likely to see you shortly. This soon however, I wouldn't have expected."

The last thing Harry wanted was to hear more about that man at present. He'd had enough talking to the man and then going over things with Remus and Sirius.

Harry mentally shook himself. He wasn't going to let his mind wander to that and get him distracted.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

Harry nodded, "It was suggested that there is quite a lot I can learn from professors who are world renowned in their fields. I'm pretty close to completing my NEWT Transfiguration material and hoped you'd be able to help me progress further." He wasn't saying anything she hadn't expected.

"Your abilities have grown by leaps and bounds if you've progressed this far. I saw the reports from your OWL examination and was surprised to see how well you did. Your father was very talented in my field and I wondered if you were either not applying yourself or if you were deliberately holding back. Tell me, which was it? You must have an aptitude for my field if you are capable of NEWT material at fourteen."

Harry noted that she had tea, it was hard not to when she began to drink it, her eyes never leaving him, searching him, for what, he had no clue.

"I believe the honest answer would be a bit of category A and B. I didn't fully apply myself at academics and I was happy with falling in between Ron and Hermione."

"Hmmm." McGonagall hummed, debating something Harry was not privy to, yet. "Any specific area you would hope to progress in?"

Harry sighed, this was probably going to be an issue but he would be straightforward with her. She'd seen him since he was eleven and, more than likely, could read him like a book, especially having taught for so long.

"Battle transfiguration. Things for duelling and combat."

"After the second task, I shouldn't be so surprised, though it is not a specialty of mine." She informed him.

"Oh, I see." Harry was a bit disappointed by it, he was hoping for some help here.

"That doesn't mean I'm incapable of teaching you, Mister Potter. I cannot hone those skills to a master's level, but I am capable of teaching you the basics."

Harry felt the blossoming of hope, that he'd learn further. He smiled, excited that he'd have another tutor. He was somewhat worried that magic had progressed much further than Salazar Slytherin could teach him. To reach the heights he would need to get to he'd need specialized training, or access to books that could assist him.

"You should speak with Professor Flitwick. He has always refused to pass on the skills he learned in the duelling circuit but it wouldn't hurt to ask him for pointers even if he wasn't willing to assist you." The elder witch told him.

"I will. Thank you for the advice." Harry was smiling at her.

"You are free until dinner I presume?" She asked, standing and drawing her wand.

"Yes." Harry said, his wand finding its way to his hand, mirroring her actions.

"Good. I will demand excellence and your full attention. If I will not have it then do not come. I have better ways to spend my time. I'll have your best when you come." She warned him sternly of her high expectations.

"You'll have it professor." He meant it. If she could impart knowledge that might help keep him alive in the future he would be the best student he could be. His rapid improvement was easily proof of his newly formed commitment to excellence.

"For combat there are generally two fields of magic. Conjuration, of items to either attack or defend. Secondly, changing the nature of an object, again offensively or defensively. Provide me an example of each." She commanded, giving him an early challenge.

"You could conjure a wall to shield yourself or a weapon to banish at an attacker. Secondly, one could defend from the banished weapon by changing it to something not harmful or changing the nature of an item near the attacker to bind them." Harry said, believing he was correct.

"Adequate." McGonagall commented.

Harry thought it was more than adequate but he wouldn't be voicing his dissenting opinion, that was for sure.

"Do you know why Albus Dumbledore is considered the greatest Transfiguration Master the world has ever seen?" The Transfiguration Mistress asked him.

"No." Harry knew he was powerful but hadn't realized he was considered as such.

"Did you know he won the Transfiguration focused duelling tournament at eighteen? That he remained undefeated until he retired from defending his title?"

Harry shook his head. He really had no idea. "Even now he would walk all over the recent crop of winners." She informed him.

"What makes him so special?" Harry wondered aloud.

McGonagall smiled thinly. "Conjure a stone tiger."

That was a challenge but he'd be able to do it. Harry kept silent and barely flicked his wand as he concentrated on what he wanted, willing one into existence with his magic.

McGonagall walked around hit, prodding it with her wand here and there.

"Good," she said after completing her inspection of the animal, "now animate it. Make it patrol along the exterior of the room."

Harry concentrated further. Animating a transfiguration was a mixture of transfiguration, modifying the stone tiger to allow movement, and charming it for animation. It was very difficult to do both concurrently, Harry had spent hours working on it, trying to perfect it into silent and motionless casting, or even just a negligent flick, or simple slash. Normally his practicing hadn't been on something quite this large and intricate. This request was pushing him to the very extent of his abilities.

Harry wanted to be sure he performed well, he wanted to impress McGonagall. This wasn't the minimal requirement for NEWT examinations, they'd not ask him to make something as large as a tiger, let alone mixing animation and charmswork.

Harry watched his tiger begin moving around the room, a sense of pride for accomplishing something that difficult.

"Very impressive." McGonagall remarked, the corners of her mouth upticking. "Now charm it to be unbreakable."

Harry did so and she shot a silent spell at it, the tiger continued as if it wasn't struck when the spell careened off of it.

"Good. Are you able to modify it further?" She asked, watching him carefully, as she was taking the long, demonstrative, way to answer his question.

"Perhaps. What would I modify it with?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Deadening the effects of magic on it, using more intricate animations and commands for it." She gestured to the tiger that was now circling the room for the second time. "I shot a spell at it, an attempt to destroy it, and it didn't respond. Your charm is good, it is flawless, but, also, limited to walking around the room. A basic one, not one layered with multiple commands and behaviour." She had gone into full on lecture mode and Harry appreciated that she had. These would be valuable things to learn.

"Tell me, is the tiger around the largest you are capable of conjuring and animating?"

"Yes."

McGonagall twirled her wand and began conjuring tigers. Three stone tigers, all larger than his came to life, though they weren't patrolling. One was sitting on its rear end and scratching itself, another appeared to be cleaning itself, licking its front paws, and the third one had taken up an ambush position just inside the main doorway, it was crouched and ready to pounce.

"These three are all spelled to take less damage from magic, to not be destroyed by normal physical means, and have been given far more complicated animations than a basic one you've done. Notice how I did it?" She challenged him.

"Yes. Silently, with just a twirl of your wand." Harry said, slightly in awe of how difficult that must be.

She nodded. "Walk to the back of the classroom and turn to face me." She instructed him.

Harry was a little unsure of why she'd asked that. The transfiguration professor was supposed to be answering his question and he assumed this would be another physical demonstration before she answered.

Harry reached the back of the classroom and turned around.

"Conjure some arrows and send them at me." She told him.

Harry frowned and shrugged, he didn't really like the idea of sending arrows at her but he'd trust she knew what she was doing.

He conjured three arrows and banished them at her, in a single wand motion. The arrows would have appeared to have been conjured in flight for anyone that was watching.

Harry saw his conjurations streak at the professor, each coming at her from a slightly different vector, and she waved her wand in a wide arc, from right to left. With her motion, the wand turned the arrows into birds, three becoming six. Harry didn't recognize the type of bird but it was small and had a white underbelly. And they were heading toward him at an alarming rate.

Harry grinned as he understood this exercise. Harry focused on the birds and noticed they were clumped in two groups of three. He held out his wand and imposed his will on the two clusters of birds. He grabbed his wand forward and turned the birds into snakes, pushing them out of her control on the transfiguration, turning them back into larger arrows but sent them around in a sweeping motion, each going wide and vectoring back at the aged witch.

McGonagall's stern expression never faltered. With a single thrust of her wand, both arrows turned into larger birds and they flapped their wings as they flew at him. Halfway there, she duplicated them into four.

Harry focused on transfiguring them again, himself, but his attempts were being stymied. The birds were dodging and swirling in the air. She'd hardened them against magical change somehow. He could feel he had to overpower it but they were closing too quickly.

Harry had to admit defeat, in this game of transfiguration, and shielded against the incoming birds.

"Well done, Mister Potter, very well done." McGonagall said and motioned for him to come back to the front of the room, which Harry quickly did.

"I had you perform the two exercises to see how far you've come and to tell you how far you have to go to be at the Headmaster's level."

Harry had thought that and was paying close attention.

"The first exercise you did well on. You'd receive an Outstanding on your NEWT exam with a showing like that. You saw I created three of them, larger and did it with adding an unbreakable charm and four animation commands."

That was _very_ impressive. Simultaneously casting a conjuration, transfiguring it to allow movements, charming it and animating it with four sets of behaviours. That was seven spells all at once, just using intent, willpower, creativity and magical power.

"The difference between us, in skill, is magnitudes easier than what Albus is capable of."

Harry blinked. Did he hear her correctly?

"When Albus won his first Transfiguration Tournament he was capable of creating a half dozen that were better protected, almost impossible to subvert control of, and he could do it repetitively. Not only that, he was able to turn anything sent against him back at his foes, better charmed and in multiples of what you sent at him."

At eighteen… That was just four years. Harry swallowed. To get to that level, in just this discipline was going to take hours upon _hours_ of work, he didn't even want to think of how many hours it would take.

"He's only gotten better since then." She told him, candidly.

That comment sobered Harry. When Horace and Cyrus were telling him he had to become a magical titan, it meant being able to match up against Dumbledore and Riddle. It was easy to think. Seeing just how far he had to go to reach Albus Dumbledore at eighteen….

"In the last war, when he fought You-Know-Who, he could animate giant conjurations or statues. In a battlefield with debris, he'd create autonomous attackers that would overwhelm attacking forces with a few moments to cast without distraction. When given time to conjure massive golems, none could stand against him."

Harry was trying to imagine what that would look like, how one would even fight it.

"How big would the golem be?"

"Fifteen, maybe twenty feet. Strong, sturdy and indestructible to normal spells like blasting curses. It could walk through a salvo of regular spells and was often armed with giant clubs." Harry could see McGonagall was reminiscing, her eyes had a faraway look as she told him.

"Wouldn't that break the Statue of Secrecy?" He couldn't imagine that would be an easy cover up.

"No, he wouldn't use them in muggle areas. In Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley and all wizarding areas Dumbledore would create them, dominating the battlefield upon his arrival. And when he couldn't, he create legions of animals that would swarm the enemy positions, while conjuring and transfiguring defenses." There was some awe in her tone as she answered his query.

"How did Riddle fight that?"

McGonagall smiled thinly at him. "If you're talking about magical combat it's best to speak to the Headmaster or Professor Flitwick. I'm willing to meet you after class times for some tutoring. We'll work on the depth of your knowledge, on post-NEWT level transfiguration, and the skills we covered today."

"Thanks Professor. I'll make sure your time isn't wasted on me." Harry was very pleased. She'd learned directly from Dumbledore, she'd been an understudy of his in Transfiguration. Horace had told him he had to learn from McGonagall if Dumbledore wouldn't teach Harry himself.

Though there was no oath, this felt like another coup.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry made his way to the Great Hall. It had been a _very_ long day and he had one more thing he wished to accomplish. Flitwick would be at dinner and he wanted to speak with him. Harry made his way into the hall and saw Fleur's silvery-blonde hair standing out amongst their peers.

Turning his eyes to the staff table he noticed Flitwick was absent. That was disappointing but he may turn up soon. It wasn't often the staff wasn't present for a meal but it did happen.

Harry made his way over and when Fleur saw him, she ensured there was a spot beside her, she patted the seat next to her, inviting Harry to sit beside her.

"'Arry!" She said, greeting him enthusiastically.

"Hey Fleur." He glanced at who was around her and saw it was Cho and Cedric.

"Hey Cho, Cedric."

The two house seekers exchanged pleasantries with Harry as he sat down and began selecting what food he wished to have for dinner.

"Are you all healed, Harry?"

Harry looked up at Cedric, who had asked him the question, "Yeah, just a bit of a long day today."

"Not fighting any new monsters today were ya?" Cedric grinned and asked back in reply.

Harry shook his head with a smile. "Monster maybe, not monsters." He shrugged. "It's mostly just politics, for now... I think." He didn't really want to get into it with them. They'd probably get outraged and he didn't need to deal with that.

"A deadlier foe, there is not." Cho chimed in with some wise sounding words.

Harry paused from his eating enough to give her a half-smile.

"But we need to run." Cedric said as he was standing. "We said we'd study with others in the library," he explained, "I'll see you around, Harry, Fleur." Cho rose with him and the two left after the others had said their polite

"How were the discussion yesterday, productive?" Fleur asked, her eyes betraying how interested she was.

"I didn't stay long and I haven't talked with Slughorn or Greengrass yet." Harry replied, trying not to think too greatly on it, he knew he'd let them know when they could.

"Papa told me it was progressing well, even after just one session." She was rather upbeat with how Patrice had perceived things, or wanted them to be perceived, the cynical part of Harry's mind supplied. "There is quite a lot of common ground."

Harry nodded, this was something that the Delacours wanted and both of his advisors liked the thought of tying the Delacour Heiress to him. There were issues to address but they'd talk and Harry was the one who held the hammer in the end.

"There were some issues though..." She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Anything expected to derail them?" Harry asked, knowing that there were two issues that may cause large issues, their joint offspring, and inheritances. Keeping the option open to have more than a single wife was part of the inheritance issue. If Fleur became Fleur Delacour-Potter then he may have another wife give birth for the Black family. The idea of how they could live and work together still didn't work out in his head. His advisors insisted it was possible though.

"Care for a walk?" She asked rather than answering his question.

"Sure."

It didn't take long for the two of them to get outside and begin walking around the lake. Fleur had commandeered his arm and they walked until they'd reached a spot with nice natural privacy and a good place to look out at the lake. Even though it was still February, and thus cold, warming charms and a fell privacy spells made it a lovely spot to watch the sun fall in the sky, on this clear, cloudless day.

"You are quiet tonight. Something is bothering you, non?" Fleur looked at Harry with concern, her body cuddled up beside him, the fingers of their closest hands interlaced.

"It's Dumbledore." Harry said, not really wanting to rehash this topic _again._

"I see…" She said quietly and dropped her head onto his shoulder. "'E spoke wiz Papa and me."

Harry's head jerked to the left, looking at her. "What?! About me?!" How many others would the man express his concerns about Harry too, he wondered.

"Oui," she confirmed, "'e was worried for you."

Harry dropped his chin to his chest. Was he really going to have to get into it a third time, to explain his actions?

"Do not fret, 'arry. I know your 'eart." Her soft finger reached under his chin and picked it up. "I told 'im, you were not going dark. You were doing what is necessary. A _very_ good trait for a mate, non?" She giggled at his embarrassment.

"Papa agrees, and anyone who knows you would too."

Harry appreciated her words but didn't believe they were correct.

"Not everyone." Harry said, a little glum. He'd had another long day today and was just ready for it to end.

"Non?" She asked, confused by this. Harry felt she was cautiously asking him to elaborate but didn't want to be forceful. She was allowing him to change subjects if he wanted while showing interest that she genuinely cared and wanted to hear more, but only if he was willing.

"No…" He sighed, not sure what he should divulge. He let his mind consider it before responding.

"Sirius and Remus were best friends with my father. Remus, I didn't meet until he taught DADA in my third year. Sirius was absent until the end of that year due to unjustly being in prison." Harry sighed and ran his free hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck when it got there.

"I think Sirius gets it. He gets that I'm just trying to stay alive, that I'm not willing to follow the adults in my life blindly, just accepting their plans. I'm advised, I learn, I listen. But, at the end of the day, it's my life and I'm taking charge of it. I'm making the decisions and, while I appreciate their advice, I don't have to listen to them or have them agree with my decisions."

Fleur kept quiet, softly caressing up and down his arm with her free hand, her head still on Harry's shoulder.

"Sirius sees my actions for what they are. Remus doesn't. He's been infected by Dumbledore's viewpoint, that I'm overly aggressive and heading down the same path as the man who murdered my parents."

Harry's fists were clenched. That very thought made him so very angry.

Fleur brought the clenched fingers around her hand up to her mouth. She kissed the back of his hand slowly, tenderly. Soft lips descended down his arm and Harry couldn't help but enjoy the sensation. It was the antithesis of what he had just been feeling.

When Fleur had kissed down to his elbow, and then back up again, she spoke softly. "I do not think 'e meant that."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, his eyes narrowed and he looked at Fleur with confusion.

"I zink 'e was trying to choc you. 'E wanted to be so obtuse it would get your attention. 'Ow were your actions like Flight-From-Death? You defended us, you rescued hostages. You didn't set out to attack the acromantula colony. If they'd left you alone, they'd still be there."

Fleur had lifted her head off his shoulder and was looking at him intently.

"Dumbledore told us 'e is glad we are close. You need positive influences. 'E's worried you'd listen to Greengrass, Slughorn and Pavlov. 'E doesn't think you are a monster, or becoming one. I think 'e wanted to get your attention and shock you into realizing how you are changing." She grinned at him, "it was effective, non?"

That hadn't really occurred to him. His time with Remus and Sirius hadn't been all that fun. He'd gotten quite annoyed at having to defend himself and kind of laid it out there. They could believe him or not. He wasn't changing.

SIrius, Harry thought, had been coming around. He'd be on Team Harry as soon as Harry was named a captain, there was no other option. Remus though… he didn't have the same fervor as Sirius. He said the right things, in the end, but it didn't feel sincere.

Harry really had to talk with Sirius and see if he was willing to swear the oath. If he did, he could join Horace and Cyrus, as part of his advisors in the know. Though what he would get to know, Harry hadn't decided. He should learn about his brother, how he really died and felt at the end of the war. However, his cloak, the whole deal with Natalia, the Chamber of Secrets, the pending contract with the Greengrass family…. He didn't need to learn about all that.

"But enough of zis talk. You need your spirits lifted, something to make you 'appy, 'arry."

Harry blinked himself out of his thoughts, he felt Fleur moving beside him. She'd sat up and was pivoting on the hip closest to Harry. She pushed herself up onto her knees and moved one of them to the other side of Harry, straddling him, her body falling right above his waist.

"You English call it a distasteful word, snogging," she sniffed distastefully and wrinkled her nose, her eyes squeezing but not quite shutting, "we will not do zat. Instead, we will kiss as the French do."

Harry was on his butt, he'd been sitting but now he was slipping to a lying down position as Fleur descended upon him. Her hair falling onto him with her body sitting on him, falling to lie on him.

Harry was sure the day hadn't gone all that well but he'd live it again, if he could get to this ending again.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My work had asked me to upgrade my license to the top level. I had until Spring to complete the course. Now I've been asked to have it done as soon as possible as it may be needed. I'll have a chapter posted for the 1 year anniversary either way but you may see another chapter in between, really depends on time. I think it will take me 2-3 weeks to finish it.
> 
> By request I've added a server on discord for the fic: discord. gg / KCkSTUn I threw a couple spaces in so it won't be deleted by FF, remove them. I've been marking chapter progress on there and there's been some discussion, for those interested.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for the bookmarks, gives kudos, subscribes comments, and, of course, Nauze for all the awesome beta work!


	30. Engaging Encounters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic has always been rated M. This chapter covers material that earn the rating. No, it is not a lemon and nor is it marked. It's been pretty tame so far and the M material is interspersed in the first scene.

This was now the third time he was all dressed up and heading out for an evening. He wasn't sure if there would be dancing, this time, but there may well be. This wasn't something that excited him, though he'd become a highly proficient dancer, it wasn't a passion of his. These kinds of nights were something he was going to have to get used to, however. This would be the first of many such occasions, for decades into the future.

Tonight he would be attending a gathering put on by Horace Slughorn. It was originally going to be centered around a quidditch match, with a box full of people there by invite only, but things had kind of gotten blown out of proportion recently. With all the positive spotlight focused on Harry and the gaffes by the Ministry and tournament organizers, not one person or subject has been covered more in the Wizarding world than Harry Potter.

The power of the press was something Harry would always be wary of. They'd skewered Fudge, roasting on a spit over a bonfire might have been kinder than the treatment they gave him. All across the wizarding world, and he'd checked in on all major publications, they went after him like a wolf smelling fresh blood on a wounded prey. They knew the end was nigh and went after him, and any close associates of his, viciously.

Personally, Harry thought there was some under the table money given to make it so harsh. In the public perception, few winners had come out of the Second Task. The Wizengamot held inquiries, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement investigated, and Fudge was quick to resign, though that didn't stop the press from the hatchet job they were doing, nor the investigations into his tenure as the Minister of Magic.

Now he was going to an affair arranged by Horace Slughorn. It wasn't quite a gala but it was more than the parties Harry had heard about the man throwing previously, with musical entertainment, refreshments, appetizers and contacts galore. Harry Potter was going to be in attendance and even a small press contingent had been authorized to cover it. They had booked up some sort of fancy magical restaurant which Harry had never heard of, Horace had said the owners were practically jumping out of their seats to secure the right to host it. There had already been two articles in the Daily Prophet about it.

Harry had thought at first to invite Fleur to the event, as his date, but Gabrielle was just out of the hospital and their family was spending the day together. The whole Delacour family had been invited to attend but graciously declined. Gabrielle was at home but not fully recovered. Patrice had talked with him personally, now was a time for family. Gabrielle's heritage had complicated the treatment and they were looking at experts to ensure she was going to be fine.

He'd been somewhat disappointed with that, as spending time with Fleur again would have been nice, but he'd never think less of her for worrying about her sister and spending time with her. Next he'd thought to take Daphne but before he could consider asking her, he'd seen that Natalia had written him. She'd been moved, after the day Harry had visited her, to their family home, they'd insisted on getting their own care for their daughter. He could have owled the family, to try and see her, but had just left it. Visiting on his own hadn't been something he wished to do. He'd have continued to see her, at Saint Mungo's, but it wasn't to be.

He'd still considered taking Daphne but he just couldn't do it. Natalia was healthy now and she asked if they could meet.

So, he'd be meeting her and attending tonight's event together. Harry thought Cyrus wasn't too impressed, hoping he'd have taken Daphne, but it was Harry's choice. Natalia had been hospitalized, for an event she hadn't been required to take part in. She'd not asked him to take her, her message had been simple, she just wanted to talk and go for a walk, like they used to.

Harry had been the one to bring up the social gathering and request her to be his date. It hadn't been like that with the Delacour Ball. She'd wanted to be his date and had made it very clear. While there was no indication she did not want to be his date, Harry felt Natalia may still be affected by her ordeal. But it was time to stop thinking. He was dressed, ready, and now going to meet with Horace Slughorn.

The trip didn't take long, the wonders of magical travel. Harry arrived at his doorstep and channeled a little magic into the magical door knocker. It was starting to sink into him just how different muggles and magicals were. Magic was an essential part of him, to lose one's magic was to court death.

Slughorn opened the door, a beaming smile lit up his face as he saw just who was arriving at his him. "Harry my boy! Lovely to see you on an evening such as this!"

"Horace," he greeted back, "it should be a good night, shouldn't it." Harry tried to rile up some enthusiasm for it but he wasn't going to be matching Slughorn's level, that was for sure.

"Ready for tonight?" He asked, almost giddy in his excitement.

Harry gave a strained smile, "As ready as I'll ever be."

Horace stepped back and waved him in.

"You're taking Miss Greengrass on your arm?" Slughorn asked as they made their way to the sitting area.

"No. I was going to take Fleur... But the Delacour family cannot attend." Harry responded, sitting down in the same place as the last time he was here, the seat was too comfortable to consider elsewhere.

"Yes, yes, a shame that." Horace sat opposite him, the normal drink lacking for the two of them, they weren't lingering here.

"I was going to ask Daphne but Natalia is well and today is the first chance to see her since she has gotten better. I asked her to be my date tonight." He supplied the conclusion that he would already have put together.

"Cyrus was hoping you know…"

Harry nodded as Slughorn had just let his statement kind of hang out there.

Harry rubbed his forehead. "I'm aware. Natalia was the one who almost died in the task and this is my first chance to see her. I want to make sure she's alright."

"Of course, of course." Horace accepted the explanation easily. "Cyrus is under oath but he's well connected. You need allies within the country. These events will go a long way toward that. Having Cyrus and myself push your agenda is a boon, but, much will come down to you. You must charm and win them over, make them believe in you. Have a good showing and we'll have more than enough material to work to your benefit."

Harry nodded, this wasn't something they hadn't discussed already. He'd been harping about the importance of events like tonight. He had to network more and stay in the public eye. He had to present a proper image. They were essentially starting a new faction and needed every kind of support they could get. Every family that allied with them, or followed their lead, was one less in opposition.

"Are there specifics of who you want me to meet?"

"All taken care of, Harry, my boy." He waived off Harry's question. "We'll work the room and direct. You just need to charm and smile. Natalia has been raised for this, she'll be able to assist too."

Harry dipped his chin before bringing it back up slowly. "Shall we then?" Harry knew it was about time and didn't want to hear about the list of people or anything more about etiquette.

"Oho, it's showtime." Horace clapped his hands together and stood up.

It was a quick floo trip for the two and they arrived at the restaurant. Why they had to come so many hours before the party, Harry had no idea. He let Horace lead him in and he brought Harry right towards a man.

"Frank, this is Harry Potter," he turned back to Harry, "Harry this is Frank Napolitano, the owner of this evenings venue." Horace exchanged a hearty handshake with the large man. He had dress robes on, black with bright red accents.

"Harry Potter!" Frank's deep voice resonated, a low powerful voice reminding him of Sylvester Stallone. "We're so glad to be hosting tonight! Business is booming! Our reservation list is booked solid for weeks on end! This whole night, we supply everything for you! No charge! Eat here anytime, free of charge."

Harry had given his hand out to shake his hand and was regretting it now. Frank was a big guy. Built and muscled, not like a bodybuilder would be, just a very strong wide-shouldered man, he must workout or do a fair amount of manual labor, odd for a wizard.

"Lucia, Lucia!" Frank call out with his deep baritone voice carrying across the room.

Harry looked around him, to see if he could see who Frank was calling. It became obvious right away, a woman on the far side came towards them, a large smile on her face. She was dressed in a violet and white dress with green and red accents.

"Franky, my baby, why are you calling for me so loudly?" Harry I'm grinned when he heard her calling Frank a baby.

"Lucia, my darling." Frank rumbled out and hugged her giving her a kiss on each cheek and then an inappropriately long kiss on the lips, made worse by the gratuitous tongue and wanton moaning. The sultry look in Lucia's eye, when the kiss ended, made it clear what they'd be doing if there weren't two men standing right around them.

"Not in front of the guests," her eyes caught sight of Harry and they flew up to check for his famous scar, "especially in front of our two most important ones. We can save that for later, Franky, my baby." She purred at her husband and lightly slapped him on his large pectoral muscle.

"But let me say it is our distinct _pleasure_ to have you here, Harry." She immediately disengaged from her husband and gave Harry a hug, pressing her body up against him. It was either Harry's imagination, or reality, that she wiggled herself against him before kissing him on both cheeks. She paused when she kissed the second cheek and whispered in his ear, "If you need _anything_, Harry, just let me know, I mean it, _anything_."

Harry was let go and he was sure his face had at least a small blush adorning it. He glanced at Frank who winked at him. Harry didn't want to thin what _that_ might have meant so he looked at Slughorn who was now hugging and exchanging kisses on their respective cheeks. The lecherous look in the man's eyes and the way his hand was firmly squeezing her arse made Harry open his eyes wide. There was no way Frank didn't see where that hand had just groped his wife.

"Horace you old dog!" He boomed out in response, gayous laughter followed his exclamation.

"Lucia is far too _delectable_ to not try and swipe a little taste." He unrepentantly leered at her and they laughed while Harry uncomfortably stood wondering what this was about. Natalia was going to be his date tonight and there was no chance he would consider letting someone leer at her like that, let alone grope her arse.

"Now that you've enjoyed that Horace, let's sample the actual food and drinks before guests begin to Lucia entertain Mister Potter." Frank turned and pulled Horace along, his large maw of a hand finding Horace's mid-back and pulled him right along.

Lucia stuck out her arm, for Harry to escort her toward wherever they were going, and Harry moved forward and let her lead them, she took them to a back office area.

Lucia gave him a look and Harry wasn't sure what it meant exactly. She was waiting or wanting something from him but he had no idea what it was.

She gave him a predatory smile and then twirled, her dress was far more revealing when twirling than it was when she stood still. The way it moved and floated off her body, as she spun, made Harry think it was more of a like a harness type dress with the actual dress portion just dropping down from the points where it attached to her body instead of being a single piece of connected fabric. He didn't have long to ponder the extra flashes of flesh as she was staring at him expectantly.

"Not going to compliment your hostess tonight? And Horace had said you were such a gentleman." She tutted at him, a playful grin hidden behind her chastising words.

Harry shook his head, she didn't need to fish for compliments but he'd play her game. "Horace said you were delectable whereas I would compare you to the finest of wines. Already, delicious, smooth and something you could never tire of enjoying as well as a wine that will only get better with age."

"Oh you are good." She stalked over to him and grabbed her two hands, bringing them to her hips and then pulling them up her body until his forefingers we touching the bottom of her ribs. Her dress was definitely more of how Harry had thought, there had been fabric between her hips and his hands but when they slid up they were underneath her dress.

"We're here to make sure you have a _pleasurable_ night tonight. I'd like to make sure it's a night you could never forget." She slid his hands higher, all his fingers on her ribcage.

"I'm sure you and your _husband_ will ensure we have a great time." While impure thoughts were running through his hormone-addled brain, he did his best to keep himself from reacting to her flirtations.

"Franky, he's mine but I'm not his. He knows the arrangement, he has a small share in the restaurant while he manages it. But I own this place and I own him. You don't need to worry about him."

Harry nodded, not trusting his words for the moment.

"If your date isn't _woman_ enough for you just let me know. I don't mind educating

Harry blinked, that was almost blatantly propositioning him. She'd taken him back to a private office and had his hands inches from her breasts and her words were pretty damn clear. He had Natalia coming today as his date and Harry had had a long lesson in French-kissing from Fleur.. He wasn't lacking in the female companionship front.

He was torn about this. His primal urges wanted his hands to drift upward and begin to take, from her, whatever pleasure she was willing to give him. Yet, she was quite a lot older than him and had possibly seduced Horace into accepting this place as the venue. It was that thought, more than anything else, that repulsed any desire to bring his hands up any further. Instead, he withdrew them.

"I'll keep that in mind." He said hoarsely, he'd needed to swallow before he'd been able to get words out.

She stepped back and slowly and shook her head. "He said you had a good head on your shoulders… I'll owe Horace a dinner and a bottle of our finest." She ruefully chuckled.

"He said you were different, the fame hadn't and wouldn't go to your head. I do apologize if I made you uncomfortable, it couldn't be worse than being groped by Horace Slughorn." She shuddered and Harry doubted it was theatrical.

"It did make me uncomfortable, though my earlier compliment was sincere."

"I'm sure it was." She gave him a teasing grin back.

"What would you have done if I'd moved my hands up higher?" Harry asked curiously, tilting his head to the left.

She laughed again. "Do you know much about magical fashion, like what type of dress this is?" She asked him.

Harry turned his head side to side, giving a negative response.

"Mind if I draw my wand?" Though she asked her hand went to her side and sunk into a pocket Harry hadn't noticed before.

"No."

She drew her wand out of side pocket on her dress and brought it up to her dress. The fabric started receding and left her covered in more than a muggle two piece swimsuit but not much more.

"The dress has multiple settings. It can be an actual dress, one that allows access to more skin, though your hands would not have found my breasts if they'd tried, and there are two more revealing settings than this." She gave him a wink and giggled at his eyes bulging.

Damn, Harry thought. If there were two more settings, that were more revealing, it'd sure be a sight to see.

"Who is your date tonight? I could show her the functions and advise her on where to get them." She teased as she used her wand to return it to a proper dress.

"Natalia Pavlova, though, I imagine she'd already knows about magical fashion." Her last dress was certainly flashy enough, though not close to being indecent or showing skin like Lucia's dress.

Lucia whistled. "A Pavlov, mighty brave of you… Not a family I'd risk getting mixed up with if there was a chance of things going wrong. She's the youngest, the dancing one?" She asked as she opened a cabinet and had some red wine being poured into two glasses.

"Yes, she dances incredibly well." Harry said thinking back to the first time he'd seen her practice at Lacroix's.

"I'd warn you but Horace knows what you're getting into." She floated a glass to him and he took it.

"Mind if I?" He indicated toward his wrist holster. She nodded and he pulled out his wand. Casting privacy charms and basic detection spells, to ensure there was nothing in the wine. Horace may have picked it up but that didn't mean he should not be careful.

"I'd be offended if it wasn't such a good habit for you to have developed." She shot him a wry look. "Plus, the spiked wine is in that cabinent too."

Harry frowned and cast the detection spells at the rest of the contents after her beckoning him free to do so with her hands. Sure enough the spells came back with one of the bottles being spiked with a potion. His eyebrows shot up his forehead.

"Mild truth serum and a little calming draught mixed into a nice Chianti." She shrugged like it was no big deal.

Harry just nodded again. This was building to something. He was going to have met Natalia at Lacroix's and accompanied her here. Instead, Horace had insisted Harry join him here, two hours before any sort of festivities started. The sly man wasn't asking him so he could assist with setup or arranging anything. The way he'd walked off with Frank meant this was what he'd wanted, him and Lucia alone.

"I suggest you have a few gulps before we get started here." She told him in a manner that wasn't commanding, merely suggestive.

Harry took a large gulp, the wine rich in flavor but still dry to his taste buds. It was quite good and the little flag he'd spied on the bottle gave away it was from Italy, not surprising given the owners of the restaurant.

"Part of the testing was to see how you'd react to it… Horace believes you are lacking in a specific area of education, one that you may find need of soon… He thought, I agree, and I expect you would too, that it is far better coming from me than him." The way she talked about this made him think this was going to be uncomfortable to talk about but she was still loud and up front in her delivery.

"I'm talking about your education on sex. Has any wizard talked to you and explained things?"

Harry stared back blankly. That… was not what he was expecting.

"Not just sex though, courting, dating, how to treat, entice and seduce a woman. These are all topics you should be well aware of."

"N- no." He didn't want to think of how red in the face he was.

"You've done our business a major favor. You'll be getting a far more hands on lesson than any young man your age would get. With what Horace has implied, without saying anything, I can expect you are considering courting or betrothals. You've been linked with Natalia Pavlova, Fleur Delacour and I'd been told you were coming with Daphne Greengrass, two heiresses and the last unmarried daughter of the Pavlov family."

Harry wasn't going to tell her anything about negotiations with the Delacour family, nor any other but she already seemed to know.

"How much experience do you have? I need to know what you do so I can begin your quick education"

Harry didn't respond right away, half of his brain was still stuck on her blunt comment that he'd be getting hands on experience tonight. What did that mean?

"French kissing." That was the furthest he'd gotten with a girl. He'd kissed with Natalia and Fleur, nobody else.

"No groping and clothes stayed on?" Fuck. Could she not be so merlin-damned blunt about her questions?

"Hands on hips, arse, stomach and sides." He tried to keep looking her in the eye, as he spoke, but was having a hard time. This wasn't a conversation he was enjoying. He took a third large gulp of wine, most of the glass now empty.

"That's very normal for your age. Given two of the young women you are involved with are 17 and 15 I expect you may run ahead of the curve. Being sexually active at fourteen is possible. Horace will want you well rounded in your education and not lacking. We won't be having sex, I"ll let you relax, knowing it won't be offered."

Harry was glad. Lucia was a beautiful woman. She had a healthy chest, more than most any girl his age that he could think of, though calling them large might be incorrect. She was fit, thin, had dark lustrous hair and skin darker than the average brit, olive coloured and smooth, from the touching of it he recalled.

"This is normally something done by a family member or close friend of the family, not strangers like us. This is to ensure you can handle yourself in any situation you may find yourself in. Being an orphan, Horace had me step in. Though this is on a sexual topic this _is not_ sexual in intention. You are being educated, nothing more, nothing less, in the way heirs of prominent families have always been tutored in the subject."

She took a swig of her wine before continuing while Harry stayed silent.

"Part of what you need to learn is how to handle actions like what I did tonight. I flirted heavily, intimated I'd have sex with you and then began seducing you. This _will happen regularly_. Women will try and potion you, they will try and get pregnant by you and do whatever is possible to entrap you. You need to be able to look at the most beautiful woman, veela even, naked and coming on to you while keeping your mind and remaining alert."

Harry hadn't really considered that. His actions would have consequences. If she'd been someone trying to entrap him, or lure him into a vulnerable situation, he might have fallen for it. He had to be better.

"If at _any time_ you feel uncomfortable with continuing, or escalating, you just need to tell me. Horace knows me, I've no problem with nude beaches. You've done something special for my business and I'll repay the favor here. If you stick with this lesson and listen, you'll be set. I have some further notes for you that I think you'll appreciate. We have until the party to be done. It is far less time than you may think. We have a lot to cover."

Harry could feel the butterflies in his stomach. She was going to be doing things, and escalating them to things that might make him uncomfortable. Lucia had arranged and gone over his lesson with Horace Slughorn. The consummate Slytherin had made an oath to him, one that would mean he believes he's helping Harry. He'd trust the magic binding the oath.

"I'll do my best and let you know if it is too much for me."

She laughed a merciless laugh and closed the distance between them. "Oh Harry, it will be too much for you," she patted him on the cheek as she said that, "but that's why we are here. To get you over it and well educated." She turned with a flourish and walked away from him, her hips swaying, stopping about five feet from him.

"We're going to begin this lesson." She brought her hands up to her shoulders and quickly shucked off her dress.

There were no clothes underneath that dress.

Harry's eyes bulged. She was naked, all her glory displayed for him to see.

Taught stomach, enrapturing breasts with dark, hard nipples, and between her legs was smooth skin, no hair at all.

Fuck. His robes weren't going to be hiding his reaction.

"You need to adjust. It's just the naked female form, Harry. You've grown up sheltered and I'm going to fix that." Her voice was sultry, her movements enchanting and Harry wasn't adjusting. The only adjusting going on was his dick rearranging how tight his robes clung to his body.

Merde… as Fleur would say. No. Best not to think of _her_ like this right now.

He could _feel_ his heartbeat.

He could _hear_ the blood pounding in his ears.

He tried using his occlumency exercises to get himself under control. She wasn't even doing anything. Just standing there, letting him look at her wondrously naked body. She might not be in her twenties but by Merlin, was Lucia's nakedness the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

"Good, just relax Harry. Get used to the sight."

This was surreal. A _very_ attractive woman, she was no girl, was encouraging him to look at her nude body. Trying to get him used to looking at it... He could _never_ tell Sirius about this. He'd never hear the end of it.

"Good, I can see some intelligence returning to your eyes." She stepped closer to him, the five feet becoming just one.

"I'm going to grab your hand and begin to run it over my body. Do your best to stay calm. The goal will be for me to begin explaining dating and courtship in the magical world. What will be expected of you and everything you need to know about it. You're Harry Potter, your generations largest celebrity, nationally and internationally. You can't be making a fool of yourself because you don't know how to treat a woman, in public or in private."

She took hold of his hand and placed it on her hip, starting at the same place as last time. This time though, it was his hand on her flesh. She pressed the palm of her hand down on the top of his so it was more than just his finger tips touching her.

"Breathe Harry. You need to focus on me and my words, not what your hands are touching. You need to learn to not react to seduction. While far from normal, you need to learn this and learn it before the party. No woman's, no young lady's, seduction and flirtatious attempts will rival this tonight. If you can keep your head while your hands roam my naked form you'll be fine, provided you are as vigilant as you were tonight on checking for potions, compulsions and the like."

Harry had forgotten to breathe, his subconscious functions had ceased while she worked his hand from the front of her hip to the back, his hand resting on the top of her arse, his fingers reaching low enough to be considered at the top of it.

She lowered his hands. Harry swallowed, his hands were frozen, feeling her voluptuous cheeks.

No. Dammit. He had to concentrate, listen.

His eyes were open but he wasn't seeing. His ears were hearing but he couldn't listen. All his mind could focus on was his hands. Both of his hands. On her naked rear. Lower still his hands sank.

She pulled his hands off of her.

"Calm down Harry. Focus. We'll try again." There was no disappointment in her voice. She expected that he'd succumb to his hormones, he could hear it in her voice, see it in her body language, now that he could listen again.

"Just so you know, the furthest we will go is my tits. If we're not fucking then you're not touching my snatch." She leered at him and then laughed. Lucia stepped away from him and refilled her glass of wine, taking a generous sip before coming back.

"Harry. You are pursuing, or being pursued by, a part veela. She has an allure that affects your mind. Will you be able to control yourself if she takes her shirt off? If she takes her bra off? When you touch her for the first time? What happens if you attend a family event and there are full-blooded veela there and one of them tries to entice you? Or a group of them?"

Harry let his mind think about that. He'd not even considered the allure much. It didn't affect him greatly. Did it influence him in more minor ways? Did it make him relax or be more lax around her? Was he just comfortable with her, familiar with her presence, or was it magic affecting him? He'd need to think on that, research that.

This was bloody awkward. This woman would be like his mom's age, mid thirties, if his guess was correct. She might be in incredible shape but this was fucking weird.

"Why are you the one to be doing this? Wouldn't it be better if someone more age appropriate was doing this?" Harry had to ask. He trusted Horace, as much as he did anyone that wasn't himself, but this was, at least, a tad creepy.

Lucia heard his question and laughed. "This isn't a walk in the park for me either, you know. I'm letting a pubescent boy touch me." She looked to her wine glass, emptying a quarter of the glass in a gulp. "This," she gestured to her mostly empty glass, "this was my _fourth_ glass. I'd rather not be doing this. It would be better if you were doing this with someone your age... Couple problems pop into mind." She leaned back on the desk, using it to support herself.

"First, this has to be kept quiet. I've already given an Unbreakable Vow to Horace that nothing taking place in this room _will ever_ be known. Second, what teenage girl is sexually experienced enough to give you the education you need and confident enough to let you roam her body with your hands, with the job of teaching you to _not_ react?"

She paused and finished the rest of the wine glass' contents.

"Would you have preferred if he'd talked to Cyrus Greengrass about it? Would you prefer someone like me is lecturing while you are fondling a girl who has _zero_ experience. That her first time being touched by a male, in a sexual manner, is like this?"

Harry shook his head. This was awkward but with another person and someone like Daphne it might well be worse. How would he interact with her after?

"Not that it would happen. You'd have to be betrothed before someone like Cyrus would ever let something like that happen with his permission. But, even then, she wouldn't be trying to seduce you, to teach you anything. She'd be blushing up a storm, like you are now, and trying to just get through the situation." She pushed her chest forward, leveraging the movement into standing back up instead of leaning against the desk.

"Frankly, that's not enough for your situation. I only agreed because you are legally an adult. Horace is going to obliviate me of this memory and I'm going to fuck Frank until I can't walk right after the party." She told him with the same candor she'd had with him all night.

Harry was glad he wasn't the only one that felt like this scene was wrong in some way. The only girls he knew his age wouldn't agree to something like this. Horace must really be concerned about his ability to control himself around women for this to be necessary.

"Would it surprise you that I'm over half-veela?" She asked him sauntering back toward him.

"Y- yes." He said honestly. Damn the woman could prowl. His perky tits were bouncing, ever so slightly, and her legs moved smoother than a muggle model.

"I'm uniquely qualified to ensure you're capable of resisting _any_ seduction attempt." She was close enough that he could reach out and touch her again.

Harry couldn't help but laugh a little. He just thought about how Horace would have had to have asked Lucia, probably Frank too, to set this up. That must have been an easy conversation. 'Hey can you teach a 14 year old how to not react to being around attractive and naked women? Lessons on dating, women and sex would be appreciated too.'

"Sorry, I just thought of how Horace would have had to have asked you and Frank." He said sheepishly. "I'm not laughing at you or your body."

"I thought as much." She told him as she made her way back within close proximity to him.

Harry wondered, again, if this was necessary. He thought back to how she'd tried to seduce him and the thought that decided it wasn't going to happen was that Horace might have fucked her first. Not that this was a potentially dangerous situation, that he might have been seduced into a trap...

"Let's try again." She'd let him recover, fully, and now began again with his hands on her hips.

"Wait." Harry said, there were two things he wanted to ask first.

She just raised an eyebrow at him, Harry barely caught it, his eyes kept dropping down her body.

"I'd read that a woman's first time can, somewhat, bind the girls emotions to the man. Do you know anything about that?" Harry asked, he'd considered asking Fleur's family but didn't want to bring up the word sex around them at all.

"How interesting… What has Horace been teaching the Boy-Who-Lived? Ritualistic magic? How… _naughty_."

Harry shrugged, the Vow was going to protect him, he'd be confirming that with Horace but trusted the man wouldn't be allowing this sort of thing to ever become public. "Slughorn only teaches me potions and advises me. I have my own tutor."

"I'd like to know where you learned about that. It's been ages since anything like that was practiced. There's still some Veela lore on it but that's mostly been dwindled down to stories and myths."

"Myths and stories?" Harry questioned the words. The way she said it made him think she didn't necessarily believe it.

"Yes, myths and stories. Myths and stories that have passed down for centuries and have names that match historical records. I was a curious teen," she shrugged, doing fabulous things to her chest, drawing Harry's eyes again, "I dug into it. With a veela mother and my father's mother being a veela, I had access to information and used it. If there is a ritual or way to make it work or something more to it, I never found it." She appeared upset at the thought of having failed to uncover anything.

Harry nodded. Salazar wrote what he did a very long time ago. It appears that the Veela records may corroborate it… interesting.

"Ready to begin again?" She asked, indicating for his hands to start on her hips again.

He placed his hands on her hips and felt his heart rate rising. She was naked and had said he'd go no further than touching her tits, meaning he would be touching them. He wasn't touching there yet but he was nervous and his body responding naturally to a naked part veela allowing access to her body.

"Good. This time breathe. Focus on your breathing. Long and slow. In and out. Control your breathing, control your thoughts." His hands were back at the top of her arse. He was affected still, how could he not be, but he could hear her, he kept his breathing calm and measured.

"We'll continue with courting and how to treat a lady, unless you'd prefer we start with sex?"

Harry shook his head and did his best not to think of how his hands were now sliding up her rear. From the bottom of where her firm arse reached her leg and his hands now running up her back, Lucia's hands guiding his arms.

"Courting is both a private and public affair. You will be expected to be seen publicly taking her out, to balls, restaurants, events and dates. Part of your courting experience will be showing off just how well you are treating the future Lady Potter."

Damnit. His hands ran along her sides and grazed the very exterior of her breasts. He could feel his face burning, all the blood heating his cheeks that wasn't already commandeered for keeping him painfully erect.

She took his hands off her again. "Good progress. Still a ways to go and a lot of material to cover." She waited for Harry's eyes to meet hers. "Just wait until I start on how to sexually please a woman." She laughed mirthlessly. "Maybe I won't have Horace obliviate me. These memories might be priceless entertainment."

Harry was going to having a chat with Horace after this. He had thought he was going to learn to oversee the venue or go over topics of conversation and the guest list. Not this. Well, he did have one thing to thank Horace for. If it was a close family friend that was on the list, this would leave to candidates. Apolline Delacour being the first.

She was a gorgeous woman and a veela like Lucia. Better to do it with Lucia than his potential mother-in-law. The other person made him shudder. Molly Weasley. No. Just hell fucking no. If that had been arranged he'd be on the nearest broom and flying to save his sanity the second her clothes started coming off. That wasn't a sight he wanted to _ever _see.

So, if he had to go through this tradition, he was damn thankful it was with an incredibly attractive woman. The fact she was part-veela would certainly help with the anti-seduction training.

But really, at least this wasn't with Mrs Weasley. Nothing done here today could be worse than her doing this.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The party had been in full swing for a while already. Harry had been making the rounds through the room. He'd been really excited to see Natalia, or maybe just to get away from Lucia, but she hadn't been herself.

Her dress wasn't flashy, it was certainly nice but nothing like the eye-catching getups she'd gone to the Yule Ball and Delacour Ball in. It wasn't an ugly dress by any means, it was nice and was more than likely quite expensive, however, it just fit in. Just like her, it was odd to see.

Harry moved, with Natalia on his arm, to the final target of the night. Charles Abbot, Hannah's father, was talking with Amelia Bones, the other person he'd wanted to talk with. Harry had a mental list from Slughorn, of people he hadn't met that he needed to tonight, it was one introduction short of being done now.

Harry guided Natalia right to the talking pair. They saw him coming and both looked to greet him.

"Mister Potter, Miss Pavlova." Madame Bones greeted them in a friendlier tone than Harry would have expected, though it wasn't a warm greeting. "Let me introduce you to Charles Abbot, Head of House Abbot, and father of Hannah Abbot."

"A pleasure to meet you sir, you've raised a fine daughter, from the little I know of her." Harry politely responded, greeting Charles Abbot.

"Charles is fine." He said, addressing Harry directly before turning to Natalia. "Nice to see you again Natalia, though it's been some time." He gave her a small smile.

Natalia lifted her chin. "Nice to see you both again." Was her simple reply, her head lowered slightly and she didn't add anything else or try and engage more.

Harry frowned, looking at her, it's been how she'd been acting all night.

"Things calming down yet at the Ministry?" He asked, knowing full well they hadn't. Though he had the opportunity to attend Wizengamot meetings, he hadn't yet. Horace and Cyrus were attending on his behalf and keeping him updated in their briefs. Madame Bones was far and away the leading candidate but other factions were delaying and trying to find a decent candidate of their own.

"No." She said quickly.

"Oh lighten up Amelia, you've been grumping for years you couldn't investigate without Fudge looking over your shoulder. Nobody with enough funds to bribe the man could get convicted of what they should be, a slap on the wrist was the most." Charles chuckled at the unimpressed look Bones was giving him.

The way it was stated was so matter of fact. This was common knowledge, nothing to get excited about. That bothered Harry, that corruption at the highest level was so blaise and accepted.

"If the investigation even goes that far to begin with." Bones muttered under her breath and she dipped her head to take a deep gulp from her drink.

Harry let her finish her swallow and look back up at him. "I'd heard you've pretty well got the Minister position all locked up." He grinned, having heard from Susan she was reluctant to take it, preferring her role, but wouldn't allow it to go to someone that could be as bad, or worse, than Fudge.

"No thanks to you." She responded right away. "Your interview did everything _but _endorse me directly."

"You should be thanking him, the media's darling that he is, with the way they cover him and the way the other Champions sung his praises in the interview, he could say dragons are vegans and half the wizarding world would believe it, just because Harry Potter said so."

Harry snorted at the comment. He glanced at Natalia, seeing if she'd reacted at all, and it didn't appear she really had. A ghost of a smile was all that was there.

"If it is me, I'll blame you, Harry, for all the extra work." She grumbled but didn't look too terribly upset at the prospect, more resigned to it.

"You can't complain after your power move in front of the international media, making Fudge out to be the moron I know him to be and showing how wonderful your close aides are." She clearly had wanted it and he had no qualms gleefully pointing it out in front of present company.

"He's got you there, Amelia, you should have sold seats for that, I'd have paid a few galleons to see the dearly departed minister react under his bowler hat, Lucius too, for that matter."

Harry liked Charles. His good nature and fun disposition was refreshing. He hadn't been pushy or asking Harry for anything. He'd let Harry join his conversation with Madame Bones and was having a pleasant banter-filled conversation.

Amelia didn't look to be enjoying the topic. "How are you this evening? Are you fully recovered?" She addressed Natalia directly, neatly changing the topic and focus of the conversation.

"Yes, Madame Bones, I'm healthy, though I still feel some tiredness." She answered somewhat meekly.

Harry frowned, again, he hadn't heard this and was more concerned. She hadn't been herself all night. Maybe it was an excuse for why she was being so quiet, Harry thought.

"Well, lad, perhaps you should take the lass home. I trust I was the last one you had to introduce yourself too?" There was a humorous glint in his eyes as he spoke.

Harry sputtered, not sure how to respond.

"Relax, I've known Horace forever and been to many of these functions, though this one brings it into a new standard. He'd normally suggests students talk to specific parties. You've done well, from what I've seen. But take your lass home, she's not herself tonight, we can all see that."

"I'll take your sage advice then. I bed you both adieu."

The other three exchanged farewells and Harry led Natalia away, he had to give his respects to a few people before he left.

"Do you want to meet me outside or come with me to say a few goodbyes?" Harry asked Natalia.

"I'll wait near the exit." She quietly told him and quickly made her way to stand near the exit. Harry's eyebrows furrowed as he watched her walk away. He shook his head as he turned to seek out the couple people he should inform before leaving.

Harry saw Horace talking with Cyrus and made his way to them directly, not looking around to see if anyone was trying to catch his eye, he was ready to leave as well, a long night of socializing was tiresome.

A couple minutes later he'd completed his final task for the evening and met Natalia at the door. "Sorry I had to say goodbye."

Natalia nodded, not saying anything. "Do you want me to apparate you somewhere or are you taking the floo?" Harry hadn't arrived with her so he had no idea where she had come from.

"Can we go to the park?" She whispered, not looking up at him when she said it.

"Sure." He replied and she held onto him as they left from the area designated to apparate out at.

They arrived at the usual spot, hidden away from muggles and quickly made their way to the main path. Their feet falling into the familiar rhythm and pathway to the bench they'd spent so much time sitting at over the many evenings they'd walked here.

Harry moved along and her quietness eerily reminded him of the first time they were here. She was shy, timid and so reserved, like Natalia had been all evening.

"Aren't you too tired for this? You're scarcely looking at me and not talking." Harry went for the blunt approach, leaving her with an easy excuse for her behaviour this evening.

"No. I just told them that, I'm actually fine." She told him in a small voice.

"Then what is it? You're not you tonight. Is it from the task?" Harry knew people responded to traumatic circumstances in different ways and wondered if the experience had shaken her.

She didn't respond. She pointed at the bench, up ahead, and Harry assumed it meant she'd respond when they got to the bench.

As they got close Harry setup the privacy spells, ensuring their time wouldn't be seen, overheard nor interrupted.

They sat on the bench and Harry waited for her to talk.

"Did they tell you that the paralysis venom didn't stop me from comprehending what was going on?" She asked, her voice quiet, despondent.

"No. I'd not been told that." That would be horrendous, being paralyzed for days and not being able to do anything about it.

"They stung me early, wrapped me up in a webbing cocoon and strung me upside down… They, they t- taunted m- me. T- told me h- how they'd eat me. H- how they… how they'd devour me piece by piece with me watching…"

Harry closed his eyes, his eyelids squeezing shut, and he scooted over, "They didn't stop. The whole time I was there they whispered things to me. Told me how they were going to trap you and make your death agonizing and tortuous."

Harry looked at her, tears freely leaking from her eyes now. His body was conflicted. Half of him wanted to remain calm and provide a rock for her as she recounted her ordeal, to be as supportive as he could be. The other half of him was broiling in white hot rage. How dare those filthy beasts do this to her. If he hadn't already killed so many, with DMLE ridding them of the rest of them, he'd be tempted to go and unleash a murderous torrent of fire on them with Cuddles.

"I- I was so terrified." She sniffled and paused to wipe away more tears, using the sleeves of her coat now.

She turned and looked him in the eye. "But, I knew you'd come. I knew you wouldn't leave me to that horrid fate." Harry could see passion dancing in her eyes, he could hear the fierceness of her belief.

"I did and I always would." Harry told her earnestly, meaning every word he spoke.

"I know." She whispered back before her face moved away, leaving her gazing out over the park.

"I spent so long within my mind, reflecting, thinking. I resolved myself to something…. But then father told me… and I don't know what to do." She didn't look back at him. Her hands were in her laps, her four fingers touching and her thumbs twirling right behind them, her eyes watching the nervous circles they were making.

"What did he tell you?" Harry asked carefully. His conversation with Ivan hadn't left the impression that they shouldn't spend anymore time together, or Harry hadn't thought so.

"You've chosen. Chosen her over me." She kept looking down, her chin almost touching her chest.

"Chosen who over you?" Harry asked right away, he was confused but also had a sinking inkling of what she was getting at, though she shouldn't be aware of it…

"You're negotiating with the Delacour family for Fleur's hand in marriage." She told him bluntly, her tone flat and lifeless.

Harry's mind was working overtime trying to figure out how she knew, how Ivan would know.

"It's okay, you probably can't admit it with privacy clauses, most every negotiation has one… It's not hard to figure out though. Most contracts have a term ensuring both parties are bargaining in good faith. The families they had been having discussions with have broken off talks for the time being. They wouldn't have done that if there wasn't a new option, a better option, one they intended to close on, rendering the other negotiations moot to continue."

Harry thought about that, he'd have to ask about that. If it was a give away and leak of their negotiations.

"I get it… I really do…" She said forlornly. "She's gorgeous, smart, fun, and a great person, from what I know and have heard. They are family allies and it just makes so much sense."

There wasn't any bitterness found in her words, not like Harry would have expected if he knew she was going to be talking about Fleur, complimenting her even.

"But I had hoped it would be different." She added morosely, Natalia's knees came up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them.

Harry didn't interrupt, sensing she wasn't done speaking quite yet.

"I-, I-... I'd resolved m- myself to not play games, to just be open. To just be me." Tears were streaming down her face again.

Harry kept his arm wrapped around her, squeezing her for support as he leaned forward, the best he could manage with his arm around her, to try and see her face, to scrutinize her carefully.

"I'm just me. Natalia Pavlova. The pretty good student and excellent ballerina. The good looking girl, not the gorgeous veela. The youngest with no chance at being heiress and from a family that would tarnish your reputation..."

Harry didn't want to hear it anymore. His left hand reached out and gently grasped her jaw, pulling it around to look at him.

"That's not what I see, that's not what I think of you." Harry told her, willing his sincerity to pierce into her brain from his gaze.

"You may not be a veela, with magically enhanced beauty but you are gorgeous. Brown hair, soft blue eyes and such lovely proportions. I get lost watching you dance, it's mesmerizing, you _are _mesmerizing." He didn't let go of her face when she tried to pull away.

"But- but I'm just me. You've picked Fleur and I would too, in your position." There was a hopelessness to her words, an understanding that gave way to her not being able to be with him.

"Daphne thought the same…"

Harry was confused, what did that mean? "Wot?" He asked, hoping she'd elaborate.

"She knew you'd pick Fleur." Harry's head shot back an inch, not expecting that. "How could you not." She added, muttering it under her breath as she looked down and away.

"She wanted to share you. I could be Lady Potter and her Lady Black." She bit out a mocking laugh. "Share you… she wanted to team up against Fleur, pick us over her. It'd let me have the career I wanted without having much pressure for family. My parents would be happy with the political match and there could even be good economic benefits to it, with the Greengrass and Pavlov families working together with yours…"

She shook her head and looked back out over the park.

"She made it make sense… Daphne made it sound so good… so workable." She shook her head once more. "I- I w- was g-going to go a- along with i- it." Natalia's lips trembled as she lowered her head forehead onto her knees, silent tears coming again.

Harry didn't know how to respond to that. Two girls wanted to share him, to both marry him?! Someone needed to pinch him, to slap him, to wake him the hell up from this dream. There was no way this was real life.

"But you know what? I don't care anymore, Harry." She wiped the tears from her eyes and dropped her legs back onto the ground.

Natalia reached back and brought his hand around to her front, Harry's arm no longer wrapped around her as it was in front of her, both of her hands holding his, caressing it.

"I resolved myself to just tell you that. I don't care anymore, Harry." She told him bluntly.

"Don't care about what?" He'd frowned hearing that and didn't know what she was getting at exactly.

"The games, ballet, politics… everything! When I was in that sack, listening to the stinking spiders I _knew_ you'd come for me. I _knew_ you'd save me. And, not because you're Harry Potter." Her soft blue eyes were piercing as they stared into his green eyes.

"It's your nature, your character. You care, about me, Natalia. I've always felt it, always known that. It's the way you hold me when we dance, the way you talk to me, the way you look at me, the way you touch me…"

Harry had no idea how to respond to that. He didn't, he kept silent and let her pour out the words she'd been thinking about while she was paralyzed.

"What would it have mattered if I'd practiced all that ballet if I'd died? What would it have mattered if my parents were happier with my actions? A better obituary? A better death?" She shook her head. "No! None of that would have mattered."

Harry swallowed. The experience had shaken Natalia. His near death experience had hardened him, strengthened his resolve and lit a burning inferno to not leave his life up to chance again, that the spider's had hit him in his armor and not just taken his head off with their pincers, or knocked him out with their long, hard legs. He'd been rejuvenated to pursue his path and it sounded like Natalia had her own realizations.

"I came tonight to either say goodbye or to have you." She placed his hand back on his lap and turned toward him. "Here I am, Harry. I'm me. I'm falling in love with you, if I'm not already in love. If you want Fleur, Daphne, or anyone else just say so. Life is too fleeting to chase after that which will never be mind."

She swallowed and dropper her chin onto her chest as she did so. Raising her head up and opening her arms she looked at him. "I'm offering you me, all of me. No tricks, no games. I'll be yours, I'll be faithful to you above all else. I'll take veritaserum, I'll swear an Unbreakable Vow, sign a contract, or whatever it is you want to be sure of me. You name it and I'll do it, so long as I can have you."

She dropped her arms back to her side. "Have me or let me go. It's up to you Harry. You just have to tell me."

Harry went to open his mouth but she put up her hand, stopping him from responding.

"I've had many long hours to think this through. My family doesn't know. I've not told anyone. Don't answer tonight. Think about it, _really_ think about it, then get back to me when you're sure… You can have me, _all _of me. You can bind me with a vow, you can have me physically because mentally I'm already yours, if you'll have me."

She stood up and then turned toward him, withdrawing something from her pocket. "Father wanted me to give you this. I'll go and let you think." She bent down and kissed his forehead before she lowered herself further and hugged him tightly.

"I've always liked your hugs too." She gave him a small tight smile as she stood back up.

"Goodnight Harry." She withdrew her wand and appareted away.

Harry sat there, his hand touching the warm seat she had just vacated on this cool night. His eyes looked over the beautiful scenery but they were unfocused, his mind was in turmoil not having expected this kind of evening, this whole day. Between anti-seduction training, the party and now this, he was done.

Sitting here wasn't necessary. He went to reach for his wand when he recalled Natalia had given him something from Ivan Pavlov. He brought his mind back to task and opened the letter.

_Dictaquill recording of interrogation - Walden MacNair_

_Q: Were you involved in the sabotage of the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament?  
A: No._

_Q: Were you or are you a Death Eater  
_ _A: I am and was a Death Eater_

_Q: Do you still support the man known as Lord Voldemort  
_ _A: Yes! The Dark Lord will rise again._

Harry glanced down the paper and saw the questions and answers went on for quite some time. It was detailed and had lots of useful information…

Why did he have this and what did that mean for Walden MacNair?

He looked to the bottom and there was nothing to indicate who he'd received it from. The parchment was standard fare and the quill was self-writing. Harry doubted anyone could trace this.

Fuck. This had lists of names and places… He had to talk with Horace and Cyrus about this. There was information they'd have to act on….

Harry recalled his conversation with Ivan, at the hospital, when Natalia was unresponsive. He'd said they'd send a message. Harry figured he'd be reading about McNair's death in the Daily Prophet very soon…

Two thoughts jumped to the front of his mind. The first, don't make enemies of the Pavlov family, he'd been warned a number of times but this, this hit home. They'd struck and Harry doubted the Death Eater was alive and that it was an easy death, regardless of whether he was responsible for what happened to Natalia or not. The second thought that jumped out was that Ivan Pavlov didn't fuck around. He'd been a part of the Grindelwald war and knew what he was doing. This single action was probably more effective than Dumbledore had been in the last decade of moving against Riddle and his forces.

Wasn't this a new wrinkle to consider... With his head swirling with too many thoughts, he knew it was time to return to the Chamber. It was time for the day to end. He'd have a lot to think about and begin to react and plan for, but that wouldn't start until tomorrow. He needed to think clearly and give it careful consideration.

With that figured out, he stood and withdrew his wand apparating and leaving the park. The privacy spells still operating as the bench they frequented would be left untouched until his spells failed or he returned there, with Natalia, once more.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for Nauze for the beta work on this chapter and ch. 20 is now reposted.
> 
> I don't intend to do any further start of the chapter ANs warning for M material. It's an M fic, I shouldn't need to and won't have further ones. That is not to say I plan on writing a lemon next chapter or anything like that. Where M material fits into the plot, it will be found, no more, no less.
> 
> Honestly that was an awkward scene to write, I hope it comes across that way, nothing comfortable about that scene.
> 
> Still doing my course work and I'm about where I expected I would be, on my course and posting this chapter. I'd thought one chapter between then and Dec 6th. I'll update again when I'm able, by Dec 6th for sure, quite possibly prior to that.
> 
> Thanks again for everyone that reads, comments! It's all appreciated.
> 
> Feel free to join the discord- discord.gg/KCkSTUn


	31. Maginot Rouge

Harry heard her first, a soft humming and the rhythmic pitter-patter of feet skipping along the stone floor, the sound too soft to be made by hard shoes. He moved around a corner and felt a heavy impact on his chest.

"Oof." He exclaimed as the smaller blonde-haired girl barrelled into his chest.

Harry caught the girl before she could tumble back, she was lithe, delicate even. He extended his arms and helped her regain her sense of balance. Looking her up and down he frowned, confused about who she was. She wasn't a first year and he had no less than a passing familiarity with second years and up. He should recognize this Gryffindor but he didn't.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and her gaze seemed to stare right through him.

"Hi Harry." She said, an airiness to her voice.

"Hi…" He looked down at her and wracked his brain to figure out who she was. She must have been resorted, he would at least recognize the other Gryffindor students her age.

"Oh!" She tilted her head and seemed to perk up, her eyes gaining clarity. "How silly of me, we haven't met, of course." She had a serene smile on her face and deftly touched her forefinger to her chin, using it as a point to pivot her head around so it was tilted the opposite way.

The odd way she moved her head didn't help him from feeling that there was something off about the girl. It was made worse by how she looked around him, not merely at him. Her eyes would move, slowly following unseen things just off his head. It was peculiar, to Harry, unnerving.

"I'm Luna Lovegood, no longer Looney, and not a Ravenclaw anymore. Reformed best friend of Ginny Weasley, not destined to introduce you to Thestrals and fly away to London on one." She sighed, "It would have been grand."

Harry took a half step back and adjusted the placement of his wrist so his wand would be more readily able to come out of his holster.

"I- it's nice to meet you." He said trying to keep the hesitation he felt out of it.

The normal response that a person would have after he'd said that, never came from her. She was staring off above his right ear, awkwardly. Harry took a moment to look at her more closely, trying to study her and figure out why she was acting so peculiar. It was early, breakfast had not yet started in the Great Hall, and he'd been on his way to find Flitwick, he wanted to speak with him. With what McGonagall had setup for him, and the promise of what Transfiguration was capable of, he wanted to hear what Flitwick might be able to help him with.

Harry noted the oddest thing, as he looked at her more closely. "You're not wearing shoes." He said, breaking the silence that had stretched between them.

She took an exaggerated look down and then wiggled her toes, starting from the pinky toe on the right foot and working, in order, all the way to her left pinky toe, one right after another was wiggled and lifted.

"I found I've missed it. It used to make me so cold and lonely but now that you've changed things, the castle is far warmer, friendlier and this freeing." The soft delivery of her words had an ethereal quality to them. Her voice was almost unnatural with how delicate and light it was. It was almost as if her words could be caught by the wind and carried away.

Harry was, once again, stumped on how to respond to this girl. He just stared at her, blinking more quickly than was natural, trying to piece together some semblance of sanity. He asked about why she wasn't wearing shoes, and not even socks, treading around on the cold stone floors and she talked about companionship and him changing things?

"I would have liked being a close friend of yours, it's nice having friends a year early though." Her finger found her chin again and she tilted her head, this time looking up towards the ceiling, pondering the thought.

"I'm glad you have friends." What else was he supposed to say?

"Yes, it is a good change, though I think Ginny would prefer it the other way…"

Harry had been lost in his own thoughts and had missed part of what she'd said. "What was that about GInny?" He asked, though he wasn't as close to the Weasley family as he had once been, he still cared for them.

Luna had not noticed him saying anything. She was still staring off, as if she wasn't engaged in a conversation with him.

"Albus Severus… It is good that is being avoided." She added airily, seemingly to nobody.

"Dumbledore and Snape? What does this have to do with them?" Harry asked, somewhat leery, this conversation was starting to wear on him.

Luna snapped back to reality. "I thought you were looking for Flitwick?" She tilted her head on the axis of her finger again.

"I am. How did you know that?" Harry asked with narrowed eyes.

"The wrackspurts told me." She answered immediately as if it was the only possible answer and Harry should have known such an obvious answer.

"Wrackspurts?" He blinked then questioned in reply.

"Yep." Luna chirped back in reply, bouncing a little as she answered.

Harry shook his head. That wasn't something he wanted to get into. The longer this conversation got, the less he was understanding. He didn't need a headache this early in the morning.

"Okay. Do you know where Flitwick is?" He figured he would be in his office but it wouldn't hurt to ask the peculiar girl.

"In his office, of course." She answered his query as if it was a silly question.

"Right." He muttered. "I'll go there then."

She nodded and then bounced toward him. "Can I give you a hug goodbye?" The blonde-haired girl with her wand tucked behind her ear asked.

"Sure?" He'd never met her and might be concerned about some kind of seduction attempt, Lucia having filled his head with that idea but he knew it wouldn't be. Not from this odd, cute and innocent little girl.

She jumped into him and squeezed him for all she was worth, her small arms wrapped around his chest. "I'm saddened we won't be close friends but it's better.. For both of us. I didn't want to go to the Malfoy home." She shuddered in his arms, he had reached around her to hug the lithe girl.

"Goodbye Harry." She said heavily, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Harry watched her start skipping, barefoot, down the hall, humming a little ditty as she went around the corner, out of sight.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Mister Potter, come in, come in." Flitwick said. "Take a seat." He offered up either chair that was in front of his desk.

Harry came in and sat. "Thanks for seeing me this morning." He said, trying to be polite and respectful. The diminutive professor had always been a favorite of his, so helpful and happy to be teaching students.

"What can I do for you this morning, Mister Potter?" He asked, getting right into it.

"Well, sir, I had talked with the headmaster and he'd suggested I talked with you and McGonagall, specifically, about continuing to learn while at Hogwarts, beyond the NEWT curriculum.

"Ah. Minerva had mentioned that." Flitwick responded not giving anything away.

"Yes, she had known I would be coming and had an idea of what she wanted to teach." Harry hoped it was the same. He'd have absolutely no issues if Flitwick did the same thing here.

The reaction he was looking for wasn't found with Flitwick. The venerable Charms Master looked saddened by whatever was going through his mind.

"Many have come to me over the years Mister Potter. I'm a retired duellist who won six major tournaments and numerous smaller ones. Many have requested my tutelage in the subject and my style is not something that can be taught to one so young." He genuinely seemed upset at the let down he had to give to his student. Harry dropped his head in disappointment.

"But, I am a Charms Master, and quite a good one, if I do say so myself. I can help you towards that, if you are a diligent student."

Harry lifted his head to see the sympathetic smile on the professor's lips.

"I'd appreciate that professor. Though, I wasn't truly aware of your accomplishments… I don't really know anything about professional duelling, nor any details of your accomplishments."

"Is duelling something that doesn't interest you?" The Head of Ravenclaw asked inquisitively, nothing in his tone betraying the nature of what he was trying to ascertain by asking it.

Harry shrugged. "I don't really know. If duelling helped me in combat situations then yes. If it was more showmanship that doesn't translate into actual life and death fights, then I'd be less inclined to consider it. Truthfully, I just don't know anything about it."

"What do you know of it?" The professor followed up quickly, his hands folded in front of him, resting on the desk as he gave his full attention to Harry.

"Nothing really. LIke Quidditch, I know it is a profession but I don't know anything about it." Again, Harry really didn't know. He knew Ron cheered for the Chudley Cannons and that they were orange and terrible. He'd seen the World Cup but had no idea how teams qualified for it. He saw some followed the scores, and listened to games on the wireless radios in the common room, but he didn't and had no idea how things worked. Just because he played the sport didn't mean he followed it, few seemed to grasp this.

"I'll answer your earlier question. Duelling is very different to actual combat. But, those who do well at it have traditionally been the strongest in actual conflicts." There was a graveness to the last part of his explanation.

The seriousness made Harry inquisitive. "How so? Are you able to give me an example?"

Flitwick didn't have his cheery demeanor as he considered Harry's request and a quick answer wasn't forthcoming.

"Let me come back to that. Bear with me as I explain."

Harry nodded, keeping quiet, he'd let Flitwick explain away.

"The professional duelling circuit has four major tournaments and numerous lesser ones. The four major one's each have their own flavor. The first one in the duelling calendar is the Transfiguration Tournament. As the name suggests, you only can duel with transfiguration. Headmaster Dumbledore won it at 17 and remained undefeated until he stopped participating at 21. He remains the youngest competitor to ever win a major tournament."

Harry raised his eyebrows at that, he couldn't hide his surprise. In his NEWT year he _won_ a Major tournament. That was insane. Harry would have guessed early twenties….

Unaware of what Harry was thinking, and not saying, Flitwick carried on. "Next is the Charms Tournament. Again, it is a singular field of magic used."

Harry jumped in when he paused. "Did Professor Dumbledore win that one as well?" He was trying to compete with the magical skill of Dumbledore and yearned to know if the man had won that too, in his youth.

"No," Flitwick shook his head side to side, "he never competed."

"Err, wot?" Harry asked intelligibly.

"Albus only ever entered the Transfiguration tournament, winning it five consecutive years before retiring from the circuit." He supplied further information to Harry.

"Oh." That seemed a bit odd to Harry. Harry had heard he was good at DADA and that required him to be good with charms as well. It puzzled Harry.

"When Albus was active, in the duelling circuit, so was the man many consider to be the best who ever was, in the field of charms. He competed in the other major tournaments, all except the Transfiguration tournament.." Harry thought he was going to add a little more but he appeared conflicted on what to say.

"Who was it and do you consider him the best there ever was at charms?" Harry shifted in his chair, leaning forward, he wondered what Flitwick might say.

"Gellert Grindelwald." He said after a moment of hesitation and deliberation. "He was a legend in the duelling circuit before he started his war. At seventeen, a couple months older than Dumbledore's age when he won his first Major, being the second youngest, ever, to do. He first won the Charms Tournament, the Championship Tournament and the was the runner-up at the year-end Masters Tournament."

"Wow." Harry breathed out. He didn't know exactly how difficult it was to win the tournaments, but he could well imagine winning a professional tournament at seventeen would be incredible. Dumbledore and Grindelwald were the two youngest to ever achieve it. That Grindelwald won two of the four Major tournaments, and runner-up on a third, boggled his mind.

"Did Dumbledore and him ever meet in the duelling circuit?" Harry had no idea about it. The closest thing he'd ever heard of, about the professional duelling circuit, was back in second year when Lockart wouldn't shut his gob about how great he was before he was embarrassed by Snape. Harry didn't recall them even talking about a professional circuit then, nor had Flitwick been involved, that he could recall.

"No, no, no," he answered quickly, "most everyone called for it but they only fought once, one clash of the all-time undisputed Transfiguration Master and the man who'd crushed the duelling circuit for years, heralded as the greatest there ever was. It was the event that ended the war. Grindelwald was defeated and his forces surrendered, knowing the end was inevitable."

"Merlin." Unbidden, Harry breathed out a verbal response upon hearing that. He knew it was supposedly an epic duel but the added perspective really put it into a new light for him.

Harry thought about it more, remaining silent. He didn't glance up or look to see if Flitwick was occupied or not. The battle would be amazing to have witnessed. It would be a good waymark for him to strive for.

Fltiwick clapped his hands together. Gaining Harry's attention he began speaking, "Regardless, I'm sorry that I'm not able to help you with duelling, I've never taken a student." He actually looked upset at that, as if he'd wanted to have passed on his style but hadn't had the opportunity.

"Would you be able to explain why, if you don't mind, sir?" If the man was a former champion some would have sought it. Harry wondered why his style was so unique.

Fltiwick gave him a flat smile. "It's best to demonstrate. Please stand and draw your wand."

Harry got up out of his chair and stepped back a couple paces.

The charms professor flicked out his wand and brought forth a dummy before he turned to Harry. "Cast an offensive spell at the dummy, silently and without wand motion if you are able."

Harry nodded, a little annoyed that his ability to cast without a proper wand motion was in question but he stuffed down the frustration and did as requested. With a cutting charm in mind, he sent it at the dummy's chest.

The spell left his wand, which he ensured didn't have any flourish other than a straight jab, and he watched his spell rush ahead, closing the distance quickly.

WIth speed that was difficult to see, Flitwick's wand whirled out and he shot a spell, or something, directly into Harry's cutting charm. The two pieces of magic collided and dissipated.

"What?" Harry had no idea what had just happened. He'd never heard of two spells collide and cancel each other out.

"How about five more, in rapid succession and feel free to make them five different spells, or mix and match as you'd like." The professor said, his tone amused.

Harry didn't respond. He cast five simple spells, all silent and without moving his wand a single iota. A disarming charm, cutter, blasting hex, severing spell and he ended with his penetrating spell. They shot out of his wand as quickly as he could imagine, less than a second between each one.

Flitwick was ready, standing off to the side of the dummy and each spell was neutralized before it could reach its target.

Harry was awed by the display, his jaw hung a little low, his lips parted because of it. "H- how?"

"Magic" The diminutive professor responded, chuckling at Harry's scowling response to his non-answer. "I can sense the magic. I've learnt how to neutralize it, I know what spell it is by the feel of the magic, and then I counter each spell."

"Incredible." Harry was really amazed. It was another display of magic he had never known was possible. "How do you learn it?" He thought it may be one of the most useful abilities he'd ever seen. To be able to feel magic to that degree.

"For normal wizards and witches it takes decades, centuries even." He said regretfully. "I'm half goblin, being part goblin, my magic is far denser meaning I'm more in tune with the magic around me. It's not taught easily."

Harry considered those words. Part of his rituals were done to make his body more saturated in magic. Perhaps it would help him pick up the skill?

"You said 'not taught easily', which infers that it can be taught?" Harry wasn't too hopeful as it would be very difficult if Flitwick had never taken a student, even when it was easy to tell he'd wanted to, still wanted to.

"It can be, yes. Those that learn spend years around heavy concentrations of foreign magic, magic that is not their own. It allows for easier recognition and allows them to begin to discern what the intent of the heavy concentrations of foreign magic are."

Harry nodded along, that is the same as his experience so far. Hope began to pool in the bottom of his stomach, maybe he could learn this.

"It takes decades though to get to this stage. Master Curse Breakers would be an example of a profession that will pick this up. Most of them are in their forties and fifties before they become moderately skilled at it." Flitwick had gone into more of his lecturing mode as he patiently explained this to Harry.

"Err… professor, I can do that already." Harry said, a little tentatively. He wasn't completely certain he was as advanced as what the elder man had explained in his example.

"That's good. If you keep at it, you may be able to pick out spell instead of powerful wards, like what we have around Hogwarts." He ruefully replied.

"No, sir, I meant that I can already feel spells when they are cast. I've been trying to pick out what they are without knowing. It's something Fleur got me working on earlier this year." Again, he had never been tested on it but it was a skill he had begun to develop in earnest. The thought was if he could feel harmful spells being cast around him, when he couldn't see the caster, it may save his life one day. He'd never imagined neutralizing spells and using the skill to build a duelling strategy around it.

Harry had the distinct impression Flitwick didn't believe him. "Close your eyes and turn around."

Harry acceded the request, doing exactly what he was instructed to do.

"Tell me when a spell has been cast."

Harry frowned. That should be rather easy, he could feel spells. The difficulty was figuring out their purpose, feeling the intent of it.

He kept his eyes shut tightly, he didn't need his sight to be able to complete this exercise.

Harry waited, only hearing his breath as the room was silent. He concentrated but did not feel anything had been cast yet. Seconds continued to tick by and no magic was cast that he could tell.

He concentrated harder, worried that he may be missing the spell, or the magic was cast so softly he didn't notice, like if he'd cast a lumos charm with almost no magical power and had been slowly increasing the power so Harry didn't notice any sudden build ups, like a more powerful spell leaving the wand would give off.

Harry did his best to feel his surroundings. He couldn't confirm anything had been cast yet with his senses so he kept silent, maybe it was how he weeded out those that couldn't. Giving a false positive occasionally might get one right, by chance alone, and make it seem like the person had at least _some_ potential.

After he'd counted to thirty, ten sets of un, deux, trois, he _finally_ felt a spell. He called it out and then focused on the task, Flitwick hadn't told him when to stop and had not asked him to now.

Harry felt more confident. He knew he hadn't missed any normal spells, now that he'd felt that one, an offensive spells, perhaps one that cut or severed things, would be his guess.

It didn't take long for more frequent spells to be cast, one every five to ten seconds. Harry thought he was perfect so far.

"Tell me what you think the spell is when you believe one is cast." Flitwick called out, amending the instructions.

Harry felt another one, it was static and giving him vibes of protection. "Shield Charm?" He questioned, he really wasn't certain but it had been similar to his shieling charm, in the presence it let off.

It continued with Harry trying to pick out a myriad of spells. Sometimes he had gotten confused about what the intent of the spell might have been and other times he'd felt quite confident in what he had been sensing.

"Enough. Please take a seat again, Mister Potter."

After they had both sat down Flitwick informed him how he'd done. "You are _very_ advanced for your age, far too advanced. You shouldn't be capable of this. I know your parents were not, this shouldn't be possible."

Harry listened to that and pondered if he should inform the professor of his rituals. It was the only thing he could think of that would possibly be the reason behind it.

"My tutor has me following a plan for rituals." Harry cringed as he admitted that but if it was possible to learn to do what Flitwick had done, it would be worth it. Plus Dumbledore already knew he was doing rituals, he didn't expect it would spread far. Given his ability to sense spells, he may have already picked up on the fact that Harry was dabbling in ritualistic magic.

"Even then, it wouldn't account for your disparity between your youth and skill level. You're far too advanced for a teen, even prodigies take another decade to get near your level..." Flitwick was rubbing his chin, deep in thought.

"You'd have needed to have been exposed to heavy foreign magic for practically your whole life and that's simply not possible." The perplexing situation was visibly bothering the professor.

"There were protections around my muggle residence." Harry offers up the only real source of magic that he could think of that would of been around him in the muggle world.

Flitwick shook his head immediately. "No wards or protections, legal or not, would be enough." Harry watched silently as the man was working through ideas within his own mind.

"Nevertheless, you've shown significant progress and the way you were surprised earlier tells me you've not been formally trained in it?"

"No," Harry let him know, "Fleur showed me how to do it with the wards at her family home."

"Just in the last few months?" Flitwick's face was awash in disbelief. "Miss Delacour has shown an ability for it too, you say… hmm…"

Harry just sat back in his seat, awaiting the professor. His thoughts ran towards Dumbledore. The man suggested he meet with McGonagall and Flitwick. His former head of house had a clear path to teach him and he thought the curriculum was probably suggested by the man. With that in mind, sending him to Flitwick, where he had this ability that he apparently should not have was too convenient to be coincidence. Dumbledore knew about his rituals and he was more than likely aware of what had caused this sensitivity to magic. He wanted Harry to learn from Flitwick, to learn something the former champion had failed to find a student for.

Nothing was ever straightforward with the headmaster. Manipulation and plans within plans were his norm. He had no problem congratulating him when he found a way around Dumbledore's attempt to block his emancipation, Harry had been congratulated, almost as if it amused the venerable old man. The question that wracked his mind was what were Dumbledore's motivations? What was the goal he was working towards? He'd been approaching all of his Light sided allies, he was setting up training with two world-class professors in material beyond NEWT and both combat orientated…

The headmaster had talked to all of those on the Light side who were around him. He'd pushed them to ensure he wasn't going Dark. WIth his training being done by some of his closest allies he could keep tabs reliably on his abilities, or anything he showed the two professors.

Did he want to go along with it?

No, the knowledge was too good to pass up, the training too valuable. Dumbledore had put a carrot in front of him that he couldn't pass up, the man would have known that.

"Are you interested in professional duelling?" Flitwick's question broke him out of his thoughts.

"I may be. My end goal was never focused on duelling though. There have been multiple attempts on my life and I want to be able to protect myself... and those close to me." He added the last part after a short pause. If he was going to get serious with any of the girls he would want to be able to protect them.

Flitwick nodded "Duelling will give you finesse and experience and develop skills that will transfer over to life and death situations." He rubbed his chin again, lightly. "Perhaps a demonstration and example will allow you to experience what I mean first hand." He stood up and walked out of the room, returning shortly thereafter, with a black box.

Harry's curiosity piqued as he wondered what the box was.

The half-goblin put it down in front of him. "This is what is commonly called a Duelling Pensieve. Do you know what a pensieve is?"

Harry shook his head, his eyes no leaving the box.

"A pensieve is a magical artifact that you can place memories in. You are then able to re-experience the memories from a third person point of view, with multiple people at the same time. They are highly coveted artifacts and incredibly rare."

That was understandable and he'd have to see if the Black or Potter holdings had a pensieve.

"A Duelling Pensieve, however, is more limited. It only works for no more than two persons at once and is a first person point-of-view. You are able to relive someone else's experience, though it is not fully realistic. You won't experience the person's emotions or know what they were thinking. You can use your magical senses to feel what they felt, magically."

"That sounds quite useful, for duelling." Harry commented the obvious conclusion.

"The first memory will be of Gellert Grindelwald dueling, his last in the circuit.. The second will be a memory collected from hs first foray against France. Are you capable of witnessing death, multiple, horrible, gruesome deaths?" The professor asked with a grave seriousness he'd never witnessed from the charms master.

Harry swallowed. "Yes sir." He responded resolutely.

"I would not normally show a student such a thing but knowing what happened with Quirrell, the dementors, and, most recently, the Second Task, I believe you are mentally capable of handling it. It may even be beneficial to experience a memory like this before you ever have to live one."

Flitwick took his wand and put it up against his right temple, when he withdrew it, a ghostly substance held onto the tip of his wand as it flailed about before being deposited into the Duelling Pensieve.

"When you are ready, place your wand into the slot and channel magic into it, your consciousness will fade into the memory and return you to normal once it has played itself out."

Harry snaps his wrist, his wand jumping into his hand. Slowly, deliberately, he placed his wand wand where he'd been indicated to do so. He channeled magic and waited for the device to do its thing.

The world around him had changed. He was standing at the end of an arena, Harry could see people all around, standing and watching him and the other person in the arena. It was his opponent for the duel, Gellert Grindelwald. Harry recognized him from the pictures he had seen.

The person, the one who had given the memory, crouched and readied himself for the fight.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, distinguished guests and all who have come to watch the final match of the Masters Tournament between the reigning champion, Gellert Grindelwalllllllld!" A booming voice announced the man across from him. No smirk, no smile, no indication he cared at all. His sharp eyes rested on him with an intense focus that was unnerving, even with Harry knowing this was a memory.

"And the challenger, Booooooris Petroooooooooooov!" Harry now knew whose memory he was in, Boris Petrov, the man Harry assumed would lose this.

Boris bowed and then went back into his ready position.

Harry ignored the voice of what he assumed to be the referee, he'd learn about rules and stuff later. His focus was on the opponent. Grindelwald stood there in an utterly casual matter, like this wasn't the finals of a grand tournament. There was a confidence that this match was a foregone conclusion, if anything, he thought the man was bored.

Looking closer at the rest of his person, he noticed Grindelwald was clad in black robes with golden accents, in fact, everything he wore was black with gold. Well, Harry noticed, that wasn't fully true, his wand wasn't black, though it was of a dark hue. Harry didn't know what kind of wood it was but it was a cruel and twisted thing. He could see thorns on it, its length curved and gnarled.

The words of Olivander came back to him, 'the wand chooses the wizard' and Harry could see how such an ugly thing would choose the young man that went on to instigate a war that resulted in the deaths of so many.

Harry had missed whatever else had been going on. He was brought back when his sightline changed, Boris had bowed to his opponent and was standing ready, once more.

"Begin in three, two, one." Harry heard the announcer state with a canon-like sound giving start to the duel.

Boris jumped to the right and shot a stream of fire at Grindelwald, a torrent that went out of his wand like a funnel, Harry couldn't see Grindelwald, a wall of fire, at least six feet across and ten feet tall, blocked his view.

Harry could feel the spell Boris was channelling, he could feel the intent, to burn everything it touched. It wasn't malicious, and he doubted it was anything like Fiendfyre. It felt weaker than the draconic flames Cuddles was able to spout out of her maw. Regardless, it was impressive.

The heat must have been overwhelming, the power and precision strong. He kept holding the flames, trying to burn the reigning tournament's champion to a crisp.

Harry felt the presence of another magic, one that was calm, cooling, fluid. He kept his eyes sharp and ahead. The wall of flames was shrinking. Ten feet had become eight in a hurry, and the six foot diameter was now less than four.

Watching the flames get smothered, Harry tried to _sense_ what was happening to them. He felt an overwhelming sense of magic building up behind the wall of flames. While the fire was trying to burn, consume and overwhelm the other presence, of magic, that he felt, was becoming the antithesis of it, cold, collected and protective.

Harry watched in awe as he could finally see what was building behind the flames, what had been protecting and suffocating the torrent of fire.

A gigantic ball of water surrounded the edges of the funnel of flames. The front of the sphere of water was pushing into the middle of the funnel. The water was crystal clear and spinning forward, pushing the flames down.

Second by second the channelled flames were giving ground to the translucent water. Harry saw beads of sweat drop off the man's face, he could tell Boris had to change tacts or he'd be overwhelmed.

As if the man could sense his thoughts, even though it was a memory, Boris cut off the flames and shot spells at the sphere of water, blasting or exploding spells of some sort. Angry red magic leapt out of the wand and raced behind the last vestiges of flames that had been spawned by Boris Petrov.

The spells connected and Harry could see Grindelwald looked supremely unconcerned by it. His competitor, on the other hand, was breathing heavily and had wiped his face with his forearm and face.

The result of the spells impacting the sphere was to send water _everywhere_. The shielding setup around the arena flared as water was touching everything. The ground had a thin layer of water and Harry had a sinking feeling about how this was about to go.

Suddenly he felt it. All around him Grindelwald's magic permeated the water. All of it. He could feel it, below, above, behind and clinging to the man whose memory he was reliving. The entire arena was awash in water, water that Grindelwald had conjured and had now now retaken control of.

Harry felt it before he saw it, spears of water, show at him from the front. He felt a strong shield flare in front, the magic directed by Boris' wand, and it flared as the hardened spears of water smashed into it.

The shield held, barely, if Harry was correct in his instant analysis of what he was seeing.

While his shield was protecting his front, the water clinging to him began to freeze. Harry could see the frantic spellwork Boris was casting on himself, to try and stop the water from freezing on him.

Whie he was preoccupied with that, small balls of water were collating together and were sent careening towards him. Some missed and others hit. Harry could hear the heavy impacts he was taking. One hit Boris' hand, shattering it. Harry could see the bones had been pulverized. Whatever spells were on the water had made it sturdy enough to shatter the bones in his hand. There was no way he was going to recover.

While Harry's eyes focused on the shattered hand, he felt the magic make headway as no further resistance came to Grindelwald's control of the water.

Water froze over Petrov's face and a blurred ball of water, the size of his head, blasted toward him, leaving Grindelwald's wand. It got closer and closer, it was closing rapidly and going to hit him square in the face.

Harry mentally braced himself for the impact but suddenly felt disoriented. He opened his eyes and was moemntaliy lost until he realized he was back sitting in Flitwick's office.

Damn. That had been fast. "Are all duels that short?" It couldn't have taken more than a couple minutes. Petrov had only fired a single spell and then was overwhelmed by Grindelwald's response. How do you even fight that?

"No." Flitwick told him. "That was the final duel of Grindelwald's career. He outclassed all the competition by a wide margin. Petrov knew it and expelled as much magic into an attack. The fire you saw was actually a Petrov family spell. It's not ordinary, flame freezing charms will be eaten by it, it burns hotter than the standard fire spells."

Even this short fight was something that had a lot of information Harry was ignorant of.

"Gellert summoned charmed water. It resisted the fire, extinguished it and then was used offensively to overwhelm his opponent, not that Petrov had a chance at defending himself there, he was exhausted and low on magic, the shield he formed didn't even cover him fully." Flitwick was clinical in his short analysis of the fight. Harry could well appreciate the man was knowledgeable.

"How was it possible to do that with the water?" Harry wanted to know. Was it similar to the transfiguration? Applying multiple spells at the same time?

"Just wait until the next memory before asking about that." He told him somberly.

"You might be interested to know Petrov was one of the top duellers in his generation. He'd have stood against the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, or any of the other top followers of You-Know-Who. The Petrov family had a long history of excellence in professional duelling."

Harry frowned at that, "Had?" He questioned.

Flitwick sighed, "Yes, had. Grindelwald wiped out their family early in the war."

There wasn't really much that came to his mind to reply. He didn't know the family.

The head of House Ravenclaw took the memory out of the Duelling Pensieve and then placed another one in. "I'll warn you, Mister Potter, there is graphic death in this. It is brutal and you'll have no trouble figuring out when this happened. It was the opening salvo against France. There are duplicates of this memory. The young man who was spared was meant to distribute it and strike fear into the hearts of all those that considered resisting Grindelwald and his forces."

Harry was resolute, he was going to see this, no matter how ugly it might get. Harry let his determination show in his gaze as he kept his eyes locked with Flitwick's until he channeled his magic and was immersed in the memory.

Harry looked around him. There was a group of wizards, possibly witches too, standing around. Concrete bunkers, pillboxes and massive fortifications were all around him. It was dark, meaning it must be night time, and the heavens were opened upon them, rain was falling, massive droplets of water pounded down upon the earth. The downpour was so heavy that makeshift streams were being created by all the excess water that wasn't being absorbed into the ground.

Visibility was limited though there were large muggle lights ranging around.

A man walked up to him, or the person's memory he was reliving, and said some french words Harry couldn't translate. The man walked away, Harry guessed he had passed along some information as the man began staring down the hill, following the spotlights. Harry assumed there was a water repellant charm on the man's jacket as no water flowed down the hood of the jacket, the man was wearing.

A minute went by before a flare went up and the spotlight was shone onto a solitary figure, a single man, walking up the hillside, straight at the impregnable fortifications.

Harry heard shouting and saw helmet men exit a fortification, rifles pointed toward the solitary figure and it was hard to see what they were wearing but he thought they were combat fatigues, of some sort, as he could see helmets on their heads.

A group of four men approached the figure. Visibility was terrible and it was hard to tell that it was just four. The advancing troops were yelling in what Harry assumed was french. They kept getting closer, their yelling increased in both volume and urgency.

The single person kept moving forward, not looking the least bit concerned with the four men approaching.

They were within a hundred yards now and the figure kept walking towards the soldiers he was approaching. Lightning flashed in the sky, bolts struck the ground, far off in the distance. Thunder followed, giving an ominous feeling to the night.

The rain kept pouring, everything was wet, so, so, very wet.

The man walking uphill, by himself, didn't seem to notice. Nothing appeared to bother him. The soldiers within fifty paces weren't a concern. He kept walking, hands by his side. The scene was barely within visible range, the rain greatly reducing visibility.

Harry tried to strain his eyes before realizing it wouldn't matter. He wasn't there. He was reliving a memory of this night.

The men were close now. The front two had dropped down to one knee and had their rifles on their shoulders, levelled and aiming at the man. Harry couldn't see, to tell for sure, but he'd bet money the safeties were off for all four of them.

The front two got close, their rifles in his face, he could tell their mouths were moving but he couldn't hear them over the downpour leaking from the heavens and the rolling thunder that followed the lightning.

Harry kept his eyes focused on the altercation. Given what Flitwick said, the man was more than likely Gellert Grindelwald and, if he had to guess, he'd say this was the Maginot Line. The infamous French defensive fortifications setup to repel any hint of the German invasion, everyone knew the Ardenne Forest was impassable and no German advance would be coming from there. Harry recalled learning about it during his education in the muggle school system.

What a colossal mistake that had been for the muggles.

An angry red flash of magic left the solitary man. It cut through the four soldiers, the two on their knees no longer having their heads attached to their body and the two closest being split in half with the single spell, a ribbon cutter, if Harry was correct in his identification of the magic.

All hell broke loose. Gun nests opened fire, artillery and mortar fire zero'd in on the approaching figure's location, launched at the man. Harry could hear, when the thunder wasn't clapping off, the small firearms, as the muggles tried to avenge their fallen soldiers.

It was all for naught. Bullets were stopped, mortar rounds were exploding well past him and artillery shells were being blasted back at the fortifications. The flurry of activity further reducing visibility.

Harry knew this was going to end horribly but he was still in awe at the display of magic. No muggle weaponry could penetrate whatever shielding he'd setup and, while he seemed content to defend for the moment, Harry knew that wouldn't remain the case, he'd not remain on the defensive long.

As if Gellert was reacting to his thoughts, the man's wand rose in the air, his wand arm perpendicular to the ground, raised high in the air. He swirled it around in a circle repetitively.

There wasn't much, at first. Each circle of the man's wand built the feeling, the presence, his magic was saturating the hillside, the entire environment. It was similar to what he'd sensed when he was in Boris Petrov's memory.

Except it was different. More primal.

The very air was saturated with the magic he was casting. There seemed to be a _lack _of intent to it. There was a purposeless feel to it. It was just spreading, interacting and permeating the surrounding area.

That changed. In an instant the magic felt vile, purposeful and unquestionably under the command of the advancing person.

Harry could see it, he could feel it, the shift in the air, the change in the weather.

The rain that had been pouring down was now under his control. The wind, which had just been far too calm, picked up, whipping up the hill in great gales. Rain droplets hardened, froze.

Harry felt it, pure terror go through the wizards and the muggles. The weather wasn't right anymore, wasn't natural.

The rain drops froze, but not into drops, they lengthened, flattened. Each molecule was frozen and turned into large needles of ice. The gale force winds picked them up and brought a flurry of death to all those who were looking at him.

The pill boxes, they didn't matter.

The fortified bunkers with a perfectly crafted viewpoint for kill boxes that would stymy the Wehrmacht, they didn't matter.

The thick layers of rebar and concrete designed to prevent the Luftwaffe from bombing the defenders into retreat, they didn't matter.

The impregnable fortress designed to make any who dared approach pay dearly for each foot of land they advanced, _they didn't matter._

None of that mattered when faced with a foe like Grindelwald.

Icicles found their way into the bunkers and cries of terror broke out, screams of death and carnage were heard all around. Grindelwald was slaughtering them. His magic taking control of the very elements, bending them to his will and then unleashing a storm of unimaginable terror upon the muggles.

Harry watched horrified and fearful, not for his life but for the level of magic the foe of the French could wield.

Harry caught movement out of the corners of his field of vision. The French Magicals began spellcasting, Statue of Secrecy be damned.

The person, whose memory he was experiencing, was at the back of the lines, a reserve or possibly a reinforcement. From the place he was bunkered down, he watched it all unfold. Magic was cast at Grindelwald and a shift in the air came.

The change to icicles and needles of ice continued, with the wind whipping them into deadly projectiles but they now also joined together to block attempts to attack him.

Unstoppable offense and unbreachable defense.

The wizards sending attacking spells were doomed. It was as if they were throwing buckets of water at a tidal wave, it doesn't matter how big the bucket, their efforts were futile and the tidal wave was still coming for them.

Harry could barely watch. Grindelwald wasn't even at the first fortification and he could already see death. He could hear the screams of dying men. He could see the futile french defense collapsing.

Wizard after wizard were being impaled by ice, not just one icicle either, dozens, even hundreds. Each drop of rain became a small lance of death. Every magical that stopped firing offensively meant more fuel for the advancing wizard's offense, less was used to defend. But as the blizzard of death got closer, the more they had to shield and defend themselves. Each defense faltering under the sheer volume of attacking debris. Even walls of dirt and stone were crumbling under the onslaught.

Harry could see it. There was a line that rolled forward, as Grindelwald advanced, and each step brought the killzone forward. Anyone close was butchered.

The thunderstorm raged on. The small arms, mortar and artillery fire had all but ceased. Harry had no idea what the muggles planned to do now but they were as useful as lambs in a slaughterhouse that had already been sheared. They could move around and make some noise but they were already in the final moments of their lives. He didn't doubt Grindelwald would butcher them. To run was death, to fight back was to meet one's maker, and to hide was to await the angel of death that had descended upon them, massacred them.

The wizards had more coordination now. They worked in teams of at least three. Two were shielding from the deadly storm and the rest were trying to find any kind of spell that would work. He saw cutting spells, blasting spells and he was certain even unforgivables. Nothing got through the thick storm.

It wouldn't matter. The suffocating power of Grindelwald had descended upon them. His power unchallengeable, his wrath unquenchable.

Harry felt sick to his stomach. The man was ruthless and didn't have a shred of mercy. Anyone foolish enough to raise their arms in surrender was torn apart by ice.

Bodies littered the hillside.

Screams blended together, a gruesome symphony of slaughter.

If Harry could make himself deaf he would have, in that moment. He could already sense the magic, the despicable power that overwhelmed the defenders. It was like an ocean of magical power had descended upon.

The killzone was no more than twenty feet ahead. Ice punctured the ground everywhere. It looked like a dart board but after a hundred, or more, darts were impaled in it. It wasn't designed for that kind of punishment. The earth couldn't take anymore blood, it couldn't keep it's form, the magically enhanced storm was devouring the landscape, scarring it, changing it.

Harry watched as the team of four was ripped to shreds, literally, by the ice. Blood splattering the ground, body parts being torn off as _hundreds_ of pieces of ice impacted them.

Harry couldn't throw up, he couldn't even dry heave, he was in the memory. Whatever warning Flitwick had given wasn't enough. This wasn't war. This wasn't a battle. This was slaughter, a massacre.

Harry shut his eyes, but he saw everything still. He was reliving the ghastly memory.

His mind frantically worked to find a way to no longer have to watch this carnage unfold. His mind supplied the loophole, and just because he was in the memory, it didn't mean he had to watch anymore. He couldn't block the noise but he didn't have to look where the memory was fixated, he could look up at the sky, hoping the heavens would give him reprieve.

He didn't know how long it went on for, how long ice continued to pelt the hillside. He kept his focus away from all of that the best he could. It wasn't until he heard a voice that he looked around again, he couldn't comprehend the spoken language.

The person who had donated this memory stood _shaking_ in front of Grindelwald. The man was in black clothes with gold highlights, like he'd been in the duelling memory, but his gnarled wand was missing, instead a long wand with familiar looking beads was in his hand. It flashed at him and Harry felt it was a spell limiting mobility. Given the way the person wasn't moving now, no longer shaking in total terror, he assumed a petrification spell.

More words were said toward him, again he had no idea what they meant but it was fair to assume it was a message, or perhaps a warning.

Harry watched as the man walked away, the storm returned to its regular, natural, destructiveness. Streams of water mixed with blood creating rivers of fluid running down the hillside.

Grindelwald didn't care, or didn't notice, his boots trudged through the blood of those he felled. He went to the closest fortification and a great firestorm was created by his wand. The locked doors melting to the unnatural firestorm. Screams of unimaginable pain rang out, the chorus of them loud enough to be heard over the rolling thunder.

Harry felt sick again.

He wished he could throw up, that his body could rebel.

His wasn't pleased to know his earlier instinct had been correct. Gellert Grindelwald was torching the muggles in their hideouts. He kept casting fire into the fortification. After seconds, minutes, hours, after who knows how long, fire came bursting out off the pill boxes, out of the bunkers. It was working through and destroying, devouring, desecrating everything in its path, Harry doubted there would be anything left inside but charred remains and ash.

The body of the person who'd given the memory was petrified, stuck watching, the eyelids wouldn't close and give any reprieve from seeing such horrid images, such depravity of the human soul.

Harry did his best to unfocus, to be present in the memory but as unaware as possible as to what was going on. He didn't need to experience this anymore, he didn't need to get a measure of the power the defeated Dark Lord had wielded.

He was shaken to his core. This was the kind of monster he might have to fight one day. This was the type of titan he'd have to one day match, not just match, but defeat. What a terrifying display of power. His performance in the Second Task was that of a baby, an infant, a child. He couldn't stand against that. He couldn't have survived if he'd been a defender of the Maginot Line. He'd have been swept away in the storm, his body torn to shreds and his lifeblood washed away, down the hillside and joined with the rest of those that dared to defy Gellert Grindelwald on that stormy night.

He'd be a number, a statistic, a single name amongst the great many that died at the actions of a single man.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry plopped down onto the Hufflepuff bench beside Fleur. He looked at the food in front of him with revulsion. He wouldn't dare to eat any food after what he'd witnessed, even now his stomach was tied in knots and he knew it couldn't keep anything down.

Harry put a piece of toast on his plate and buttered it. When he couldn't eat before quidditch he at least had some toast, something to give him energy. He'd been hungry before he went to talk with Flitwick and he knew he should eat.

"'Arry? Are you okay? You look… pâle?" She wrinkled her nose, unhappy with not having the correct english word known to her, even though the word translated the same. Normally Harry would find it cute, endearing even, but right now that barely registered, it was a vague thought that was discarded before it was fully formed in his mind.

"No, not really. But I will be." Mechanically he kept buttering his toast. He'd intended to try and catch up with Daphne this morning and set another time to escort her to the Chamber of Secrets but his feet had carried him to sit at the Ravenclaw table beside Fleur.

She put her hand on him and recoiled.

Harry barely registered it, she must have felt some of what he was feeling.

"Wh- what happened to you, 'arry?" She was shaken, not having expected to feel anything like that from him.

"I saw it. The Maginot Rouge." He whispered. He hadn't lowered his voice because he hadn't wanted to be overheard but because he could scarcely say the name the French gave for the extermination of the French forces at the Maginot Line on that fateful day.

Fleur dropped her cutlery; it clattered loudly on her plate. She stood immediately and pulled Harry up by the arm. Quickly she escorted him out of the hall. Harry's feet mechanically followed her wherever she was leading. In short order, he found himself in Fleur's room and she had him sit in a large chair by a fireplace.

The warmth felt nice as did the warmth of Fleur's touch. It felt human, normal.

What he'd seen was inhuman, depraved, immoral and a perversion of the human soul. There was not a shred of doubt in Harry's mind that Grindelwald was not as wicked, vile and brutal as Riddle had ever been. It just hadn't affected England like Riddle had.

What he'd seen, what he'd witnessed, was suffocating power mixed with superb skill. What he'd been able to accomplish against Boris Petrov was but a sliver of a precursor to Maginot Rouge.

Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply, counting each breath in turn, un deux trois, un deux trois.

"'Arry, take zis." He opened his eyes and saw a highly concerned Fleur thrust a mug into his hands.

She held his hands and helped lift the cup towards his mouth. "Drink." She commanded in a calm pleading manner.

Harry did so, the chocolatey drink filling him with warmth, reminding him of when Lupin gave him chocolate on the train after he'd met a dementor for the first time.

Harry drank some more down and found himself draining the mug quickly. Fleur was ready with another one and put another hot drink in his hand.

"Feeling better?" She asked and put a hand on him, this time she didn't recoil.

"Yes." He honestly answered, he really was feeling better.

"Bien." She said before sitting down on him.

"Now, tell me why you saw that effroyable memory."

Harry closed his eyes and breathed in Fleur's scent. He wasn't sure what it smelt like but it was definitely Fleur. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, he needed her warmth, the comfort of her embrace.

He had idea what effroyable meant but given the context he didn't need to guess.

"I talked with Flitwick. I asked him if duelling is useful to actual life and death combat and he made a highly effective point. I saw Grindelwald destroy Boris Petrov in a sanctioned championship duel, in the Masters Tournament. He did a really mild version of what he did at Maginot Rouge. A match to a bonfire in difference but still a skilled developed for dueling."

Fleur snuggled into him, her head falling onto his shoulder, her lips tantalizingly close to his ear. "Why did you need to see that? 'Ow could 'e show that to you?"

Harry shrugged, thought not effectively with Fleur half sitting and half lying down on him. "I've seen death before Fleur. I've killed in self defense. He thought I could handle it, that it would be good to see the kind of monsters I may need to put down one day."

Harry couldn't see her face but it was obvious she wasn't happy with the answer.

"Why did you talk to Flitwick about duelling?" She questioned, diverting away from the previous question.

"I talked with him to see about learning beyond the NEWT curriculum, as I had with McGonagall. It seems I'm an ideal candidate to learn from him, though my style won't be the same as his." Harry said that more cheerfully.

He'd worked it out with Flitwick that he'd get advanced training. The Charms Master, former Duelling Champion, would help hone his magical sensing skills and prepare him to enter professional duelling circuits, not that it had been agreed he _would _enter. They'd work together until the end of the school year and then reassess, that was the agreement.

Harry liked the result. It gave him tutelage, very valuable tutelage, but left all of his options open. He wasn't sure he should go into professional duelling but he saw the benefits now. Duelling wouldn't make him into a powerhouse but it would develop skills which were helpful and applicable.

"'E's going to teach you to duel?" She asked somewhat not in disbelief but more in astonished surprise. She lifted her head up and pushed her body so she was sitting directly on him, her eyes boring into his.

"Yep." He chirped. How is it possible that it was just breakfast time? It felt like this day was already done.

"That's amazing!" She told him, excited for him.

"It's thanks to you." He knew she wouldn't know why and he told her, "You taught me to sense magic and I'm very skilled at it for my age."

She smiled at him, "I'm glad I could 'elp."

"I"ll need more of it, if you're willing."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrow delicately, in question, as she responded.

"I need to work on identifying different categories of spells. Offensive, defensive, and recognizing magic being cast around me. Willing to work with me on that?"

"Oui, of course I will." She told him.

"Want to help me with one more thing?" He asked, a hungry look coming into his eyes.

"With?" Her eyes were a little narrowed, as if she felt something was a little different about this request.

"I'd like to get the Maginot Rouge out of my mind. Help me focus on something else?" He deliberately lowered his gaze to her lips, puckering his to make the request obvious.

Harry had hoped she'd just kiss him, or agree and then kiss him. He hadn't expected to hear her musical laughter.

It didn't feel like she was laughing at him, nor rejecting him, so he let her regain her composure. She hadn't moved off of him or anything and his arms were still around her.

"It ees a bad, 'ow do you say, pick 'er up phrase?"

Harry smiled at her light frustration. "A pickup line, that's what you meant to say?"

"Oui" She told him. "You want to kiss me so you won't think of the worst day in Magical France's history in the last 'alf century? You really know 'ow to charm a lady." She teased him, clearly not upset, just finding it funny.

"I'd like to kiss you, and more, it's just a convenient excuse." He grinned at her.

Fleur responded how he'd hoped this time. Her lips closed on his and Harry felt their soft touch against his.

He closed his eyes and just enjoyed the tactile feel of her body on his. Their lips stayed locked and Fleur's tongue probed his lips, not demanding entrance, she'd never been overly forceful as they kissed as the french do. Harry parted his lips further and brought his tongue out, using it to probe, play and explore her mouth.

He knew, with her sitting on him, that she'd feel his arousal. It was a natural reaction and any embarrassment he might have felt was beaten out of him by Lucia. He had to keep his mind and be wary of being taken advantage of. As long as he was able to do that, he was encouraged to _thoroughly_ enjoy these moments, he was certainly loving this right now.

Harry's hand began roaming her body. He started running them up and down her back, his hands gliding along her smooth blouse while their lips moved in tandem with each other.

Harry did something he wouldn't have had the confidence to do before. He slipped his hands under her blouse and slid it up her back. If the moan from Fleur was any indication, she had no issues with this escalation.

He kept his right hand working up and down her back, he marvelled at how smooth and warm her skin was. His left hand slid down her body and began groping and squeezing her amazing derrière, his actions elicited a gasped ''Arry' to escape from her mouth.

As Harry kept up his ministrations she began pushing her body against him, working her hips to press into his hand when he squeezed her arse. Pushing her spine back against his hand as he moved it up and down.

WIth his minor escalation of their physical relationship being appreciated, he got more daring. His left hand joined his right, under her blouse and he started running them up and down the sides of her body, they even moved to her stomach and skirted the edges of her bra.

She hadn't given any indication that she didn't like it, if anything, she heartily approved. She swung her leg over so both of hers were outside of his, her body straddling him in the chair, her hips rocking back and forth.

Harry kept up with his ministrations, he was rock hard and not fully lost to the ecstasy he felt. It was Fleur who wanted more, he assumed she was emboldened by his actions. She had mostly initiated the physical aspects of their relationship but he'd asked her to kiss him and then used his hand to explore her body.

She broke the kiss and sat up, her eyes half lidded over. Her blue eyes sought his and searched Harry's green ones. He didn't know what she was doing, or looking for, but he rolled with it. This silver-blonde haired goddess was sitting on him and he wasn't going to complain. He'd ran his hands all over her body and even over her bra a few times. Nothing was on his mind but _her_. If she wanted to stop here, he'd not have a problem with that. He respected her. He'd pushed the boundary a little but he'd not do anything she didn't approve of.

Fleur blinked her eyes slowly, the movement had to be deliberate. He saw resolution in them, when they opened and could see she'd made a decision, the basis for which he had no idea, let alone what decision she'd made.

He didn't have to wait long to find out. Her hands left his body and moved up to the top of her shirt. Slowly, as if he was watching a block of ice melt in one degree celsius, she began to unbutton her top. Her delicate fingers undoing each button in a tantalizingly slow manner.

Harry swallowed. He could handle this. He was entranced though. Button after button came undone until the bouse hung apart, off her body, exposing her chest. She shrugged the shirt off and only had a bra covering her chest now.

Her right hand slipped behind her and it reached up to the middle of her back.

Harry held his breath. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, trying to break through his ribcage. He heard the clasp come undone and it began to fall, her breasts were about to be on full display, inches away from his face.

That was until her left hand came up and held it in place. Her right arm came back around and her index finger was put on his lips.

"No further. Just this. Okay?" She whispered to him.

Harry nodded his head in an exaggerated fashion. He felt disappointment, having thought she'd let the bra come off but he resigned himself to accepting that she'd just teased him.

She smiled at him, mischief was written on her face. Her right index finger went under his chin and it tilted his head upward. She descended down upon him, their lips meeting again. Her mouth opened and her tongue came back out. Harry reciprocated and closed his eyes, loving the feeling of their kissing, not _snogging_, sessions.

They kept it up for a minute before Harry felt something drop onto his lap. He didn't have time to consider what it was as Fleur's hands grasped both of his. They brought his hands up to her chest and instead of hitting the bra, as they had before, they found her breasts.

Her perfect breasts. Soft. Warm. Firm. Perfect.

Harry broke the kiss and looked directly into her eyes.

She grinned and nodded, giving tacit approval, as if her bringing his hands there wasn't enough.

Harry removed his begrudging hands, they didn't want to stop exploring every each of her exposed chest but his eyes wanted to take them in in all their glory.

Fuck. He couldn't breath. Lucia had an amazing rack but this was different, special. No awkwardness was here. This was right.

He remembered what he'd been told. His head moved toward her chest after he'd done his damnedest to memorize the sight. His lips covered her left nipple and gently squeezed, Fleur stiffened and a long moan came out of her mouth.

Damn. He was going to listen to Lucia and _thoroughly_ enjoy this. The day could be as long as it wanted, so long as he got the opportunity to never leave this situation, for all he cared.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN
> 
> The Luna scene was a request for the 1 year anniversary. It's not meant to be a recurring character introduction nor is it truly part of the fic. It was the most requested, multiple people messaged about seeing Luna in the fic.
> 
> The Flitwick scene had been on my mind for weeks. I'm glad I finally got to write it. I guess that's the second action scene in the fic, even if it wasn't actually Harry.
> 
> Thanks to Nauze for the beta work! He did this one and Chapter 21.


	32. Rituals, Worries & One Day

_The measure of a man is not found in what he espouses, nor is it found in what their reputation says about them. The measure of a man is found within their actions. Who is more upright, the man who gives a tenth of his wealth or the man who gives half? Is it the percentage that matters or the amount of wealth they have conceded? Which man sacrificed more, the one who gave more than he could or the one who gave what was easily affordable, when the latter gave a much greater sum?_

_Questions of philosophy and morality have plagued humanity from the very beginning. Each of them asking questions and spending years seeking to answer them. I tell you it true, there is a simple code to follow. Academics would have you study the history and progress of human thought for years on end._

_Love and protect your family._

_Is it an odd thing to read from a man who will more than likely be reviled as the worst of the Hogwarts founders? I know how people perceive me. I hear the whispers and I know I am already a failure. Those that I loved, I failed._

_My wife, broken hearted, my son pursuing power above all else…_

_I defeated my enemies, I destroyed, with avengence, those who threatened our family, those who decried our way of life, and yet, I could not do what was most important..._

_I _ _ **am ** _ _a failure of a man. I failed to protect my wife, I failed to raise my progeny. And now? Now, I write the ramblings of a man who shall not be seen again. A man working to complete a work that I hope will bring me the redemption in death that I sought in life, knowing I will not achieve it while I draw breath._

_Protect those dear to you, family can be more than just blood. Do not quarrel for the sake of quarrelling. Do not yearn for power so you can be powerful. Both paths will lead to the corruption of your soul._

_Above all, keep a pure heart, it will not lead you astray._

Harry scratched his nose as he re-read the final line in this entry. A pure heart? That… that wasn't something he'd have though Salazar Slytherin would have said, especially when he first started reading it. Today's entire long journal entry was summed up with looking after your family and protecting them is paramount. That destroying your enemies ruthlessly, by any means necessary, should be the goal, if they are a danger to your family. Take decisive actions lest they be given a chance to take decisive action against you first.

Harry had been reading more and more of the man's life story and it was not what he had been expecting. If anything, it seemed Salazar was depressed before his death. The mistakes he had made had undone the things he valued most in life, or that was Harry's opinion on what he'd read so far. It was leading Harry to the conclusion that the Chamber of Secrets was his plan to pass on his legacy. The idea of being 'worthy' kept coming back up and it still bothered him. He'd not forgotten the sorting hat's warnings.

'_The Chamber is Slytherin's greatest work, on the same level as Rowena's famed runic room. It is not simple parseltongue but a master's work of enchanting, charms, runes, wards, and, most impressively, soul magic.'_

'_Salazar still controls his domain from beyond the grave… this is an explicit warning, none have ever become his heir. All have fallen short and many with brutal consequences.'_

How the chamber operated was something Harry had very little understanding of. He was working through, or finished, NEWT material and was nowhere near mastery level that might shed some light on how this was all possible.

"Harry." Daphne's voice broke him out of his thoughts.

He was starting to get used to having someone else in here. She had _very_ limited access. Academic knowledge on rituals but nothing specific. She couldn't read the books which outlined his rituals and he hadn't shared them. He'd told her what he was doing, as she'd been in here on a ritual day, but not of the specifics on what he was doing.

"You said you started with a set of seven mind rituals?" She asked, after she had noticed Harry paying attention to her.

"Yes." He responded simply, not sure where she was leading with this line of questions.

"Then you went with a set for physical rejuvenation?"

"Yes." He was sure he'd already told her this so he wasn't sure why she was asking again.

"Then magical rejuvenation, physical strength, and then magical strength? Physical before magical and rejuvenation before strength?" She was biting her lip at the end and asking the question in such a way as to render it rhetorical in nature, though Harry responded anyways.

"Yes." He drawled out, waiting for her to get to the point.

"How far are you? You're on the magical strength set?"

Harry nodded. "I'm at thirty-four rituals, a few short of completing the magical strength set of seven."

Daphne hummed in response, clearly something was going on between her ears, "Then you move onto?"

Harry hadn't told her what the last two sets were. He had little idea of what they were exactly. The books were blank past his next ritual.

"Magical abilities."

"Which ones?"

Harry shrugged. "No idea." He answered honestly.

Daphne's eyes grew wide. "N- no idea?" His response had obviously not been what she expected, Harry thought.

"Only the next ritual is revealed, at the moment, and beyond that, is blank. Normally anything that takes a lot of preparation is revealed early. Other things are not. It's been mostly on a need-to-know basis and whatever controls this place hasn't deemed it necessary for me to know." It had really bothered him at first. He had two choices, accept it or stop. Stopping before completing ritual sets had all sorts of dire warnings for what could happen and so he really had only a single option, follow the path after he started his rituals.

He had considered stopping after completing the first ritual set. Being a completed set it wouldn't leave his magic in flux, however, he doubted it was a good idea to do only that ritual. The set was designed to be completed with others. He figured there would be some sort of imbalance and had decided to just go along with the process, without letting it bother him so much.

It had helped to learn more of the man behind the legend. His writings seemed sincere, if it could be trusted to not be a wholly skewed version of events that turned an antagonist into a protagonist.

Daphne bit her lip again, after letting out another hum. "Isn't that, like, incredibly dangerous?"

Harry ran his hands through his hair and a pained expression flashed across his face. "I wasn't in a good place when I first came down here."

He shook his head and scoffed, "Here…"

Daphne stayed silent as Harry thought back to what drove him to find sanctuary in a place that had previously haunted his nightmares.

"This was the only place I could think of where I wouldn't be found. I felt friendless... and… I was _angry_… I had a choice and I made it. I leaped without looking, like I'd always done, and what else was I to do, once I did the first one?"

Once he had started, the only real option was to stop at three sets of seven. But that wasn't even an option because he had done the Dragon Power Ritual early on. Even now he had a couple of the seventh set done and while working on completing the fifth set.

"No," she agreed with him, "after you started you had very little choice but to continue… Seven sets of seven though… I've never heard of _anyone_ who had even attempted it." She hid her eyes behind her hand as her fingers rubbed back and forth on her forehead. When she lowered it again she spoke, her facial features were strained, like she didn't want to say what she was going to say. "It's lunacy, really, it is. There are _rumors_ that Grindelwald had pushed the boundary of ritualistic magic and that he'd done seven sets of three. The _old_ families have traditional sets but most of those are a single set of three, sometimes seven, rituals, nothing so ambitious. Seven by seven… Merlin…"

Harry grimaced at her words, though Salazar's own warnings writings had indicated he'd accomplished something no others would be able to match, that he was the foremost expert on ritualistic magic there ever was, and possibly would ever be.

Harry wasn't sure when it started, but he had begun to trust the writings of the man. The more he read, the more his previous belief of the man shattered. It was scaring him how much he was trusting the writings of a man history painted as a bigotted and evil man, one who clashed with the other founders, the ones portrayed as paragons of what a wizard, or witch, should be.

Men should be brave, chivalrous and strong. They should be like Godric Gryffindor, a man that was equal parts terrifying, on the field of battle, and kind, off the battlefield. Women should aspire to be as beautiful, hardworking, and at least half as smart as the gorgeous genius Rowena Ravenclaw, and those that cannot should strive to be Helga Hufflepuff, homely, hard working, loyal and hospitable, if they couldn't be as smart as Rowena they could aspire to be as supportive as Helga.

The writings he'd found, on the founders, were rather uninspiring to delve into. They painted caricatures, almost fairy tales, of the founders. It was such a stark contrast to the writings of Salazar Slytherin. He'd been brutally honest about his faults, missteps, and resigned to acknowledge the consequences of actions. He gave a more complete picture of himself. The few stories he wrote showed admirable and less than admirable traits.

Godric was shown, through his actions in the tales Salazar relayed, to be shown as more of a brute that wielded immense power than a strategist. This worked on the battlefield but failed off of it. His repriotore for methods of confrontation were relegated to direct confrontation and nothing else. His adamancy to refuse to lose was effectual in a fight but sorely lacking in politics, where compromising could bring about the best results. And this wasn't just limited to Godric which allowed Harry to see the founders as humans, not icons.

Rowena was a renowned academic. It was as if her excessive academic prowess came at the cost of her ability to understand how the world actually was, not the simplistic, and often idealized, versions of it found within the covers of a book. Her failing to raise her daughter was but one effect of her lack of grounding in the day to day life of an average person. No matter how booksmart she was, she didn't excel at living life. Helga Hufflepuff, however, did.

If Molly Weasley could have a patron saint it would be Helga Hufflepuff. Homely and mothering didn't begin to describe her, though Harry wondered if Salazar was infatuated with the woman. The one frustration he had with her, brought up over and over, was her non-confrontational demeanor. She always de-escalated and never gave strong opinions. She aspired to be the mortar that held everything together, she supported and helped them all. Helga would get into the middle of things with the sole point of keeping them together instead of mediating and helping to resolve issues.

When he'd come down into the depth of Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, Harry had had Godric Gryffindor as the ideal wizard to try and live up to. The more he read on the man, the less impressed he was. It wasn't that he wasn't an amazing man, someone worth aspiring to be. Harry had just found the more pragmatic Salazar Slytherin was someone to look up to, instead. This brought about the issue he'd struggled with.

Could he trust the writings of the man?

Daphne was essentially asking him that, when she questioned his working towards the ritual set of seven by seven. He didn't know whether he was being brainwashed, or not, but he was finding himself trusting that the founder was a good person at heart, at least at the end of his life, and one worthy of trust, even if it was a small amount at this point in time.

Harry brought his thoughts back to the girl that had sparked his internal thoughts to turn back to that. He looked over at Daphne, not failing to notice her attire for the day. He wasn't _completely_ certain that she was dressing in a more _enticing_ manner, though he'd wager his firebolt that she was. She kept coming down to the chamber without her cumbersome Hogwarts robes on. Instead she was in tight sweaters, that contoured to her shapely figure and wore pants that hugged her rear, his eyes kept lingered on her body as she wasn't looking at him, and thus wouldn't notice the length of his gaze on her.

He blamed Fleur for this. It was her that kickstarted his new level of interest in women. Ever since she first allowed to roam his hands all over her body, specifically her amazing chest, he kept losing himself in wonderment. How could he stop from imagining how firm Daphne's arse would feel, how soft her bosom would be and how hard he could make her nipples…

Damn. He was doing it again.

This kept happening, his hormones running rampant over his brain's synapses, driving away rational thought.

It wasn't until he noticed her lips had moved that he realized he'd missed whatever she had just said. What was worse was that she was looking at him like she was waiting for him to respond.

"Sorry, I missed that." He said, hoping he had guessed right, trying to keep control and not let his face burn in embarrassment.

Daphne caught his eye and smirked at him. The rosiness of her cheeks made him believe she had a real good idea of what he'd been distracted by.

"I asked if you understood why it was ordered that way?"

"No." While Daphne was getting access to a book he hadn't, yet, had access to, he found theirs differed greatly. He got books on what to do and her book was on the background knowledge that would go into designing the rituals themselves and understanding how they cooperatively affected the individual. "The books that have been revealed to me tell me what to do, not how and why it was being done." He'd come to terms with it and understood he had to move forward.

She'd crossed her arms, just under her breasts, damn why did his eyes have to drop, then pause, on them when she was watching him carefully. Harry brought his eyes back to hers and she was mulling something over, Harry could see.

"I _think_ I understand the principles behind it." She was biting her lip again, in Harry's opinion, it made her look rather cute.

"You start with the mind ritual set because you are... grounding yourself." She seemed to be struggling to select the right word.

"Grounding myself?" Harry didn't know what that meant exactly.

Daphne nodded, slowly. "Rituals _change_ you, Harry. They alter you."

That was kind of the point… He gave her a blank stare, not comprehending what her point was.

"They can change you," Harry's blank look didn't change, she was just repeating herself now. "_Completely _change you. Your looks, your magic, your personality, anything and everything about you can be changed _irrevocably_." Daphne was getting animated, passionate even, as she explained this.

"Give me some examples." It was hard to think of this in the abstract. The Greengrass heiress had obviously researched this far beyond what his paltry knowledge and he wanted concrete explanations of what she was trying to tell him.

Daphne thought for a moment before a vicious grin crossed her face. Harry had no doubt this girl could be a vindictive bitch if it suited her purposes, "There was a guy that tried to make himself… mmm… less _impotent _in bed. He tried to make himself _larger_ and did a ritual for that."

Harry wasn't sure he actually wanted to know how this one went wrong. He was cringing just thinking about it.

Daphne, on the opposite end of the spectrum, was grinning maliciously. "It worked, worked _too _well. He was larger. As were _all_ the parts of his reproductive system. They had to remove it, the ritual had made it grow and it kept growing, ang growing, and growing."

That would _not_ be fun, was the conclusion Harry came to as soon as he thought about that. If it went unchecked, things would get so large he'd need a wheelbarrow to walk...

"There was another guy that wanted to be stronger, this being back when knights, swords and horses were the norm. He wanted to be the strongest man alive and did a ritual set for it. His muscles grew and he became incredibly strong. Unfortunately," and her delivery didn't match her choice of wording there, "he didn't ensure his bones and ligaments were strengthened to match. If he tried to use his herculean strength he'd just break something." The malicious look on her face as she explained the downside was a little unnerving, to Harry. It was like she enjoyed that it backfired. He frowned in response.

"These are stories told at bed time, to magical children." She grinned at him.

"Bedtime stories?"

"Oh yes."

"Not fairy tales? Like Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty?" Harry asked, even if he hadn't been able to partake in them nearly as much as Dudley, he still was exposed to them.

"That muggle nonsense?" She scoffed, clearly unimpressed with the stories.

"Nonsense? At least they aren't telling children about engorging dicks and balls." He reposted her comment.

Daphne shook her head and shifted in her seat. Her posture straightening and a colder look adorning her face. "Muggle fabrications that teach their children that life is fair and just in the end. Persevere and good will come to the righteous and the wicked will receive their connupance." The scorn, in her tone, was palpable in the air. "If you just work hard, everything will work out in the end. You can go from being a poor pauper into being the queen, with a loving marriage to the perfect prince and have a prosperous kingdom without strife. That all you need to have a happily ever after life is to have upright and just actions and to work hard. As long as you put in the work, and act in a righteous manner, everything will work out just great."

Harry didn't respond. He sat back in his chair, slouching a little, and he rubbed his chin in deep thought.

Daphne was breaking down the muggle bed-time stories into what they taught children. It meant she was either familiar with the literature or she'd been taught this.

"The children stories told in the wizarding world teach them, teach them about life _and _magic. They instill life lessons and educate them about the dangers of magic."

Harry didn't want to get into any arguments, nor breed animosity between them. He didn't have any strong beliefs on the issue at hand either way. He was more interested to hear about the wizarding world's viewpoint than anything else.

"How do those two ritual stories do that and what's one that comments on life lessons as well as warns about magic?" No deference nor challenge in his delivery. He was neutral and his query held little, if any, emotion. He was trying to treat this more as an academic discussion and remove the emotion that could lead her to believe he was being antagonistic with his response.

Daphne pursed her lips and then let out a deep, calming breath. Her hands came off her elbows, her arms uncrossed and she crossed her legs, one knee over the other, before she folded her hands on her knee. If it wouldn't have wrecked the delicate ambience he would have snickered at how much she looked like a lecturing parent right now, Harry could almost hear the 'listen closely, my child' that her posture was practically yelling out.

"The ritual stories are warnings. Magic doesn't always have the intended consequences you wish for and that you should not play with magic. It is dangerous and has a degree of permanency to it, you can't always wave your wand and fix things."

Harry nodded, he got that from the story but it was good to have it affirmed. He leaned forward, there was a strong chance the next part would be new to him.

"One of the most well known stories is The Tale of the Three Brothers. Three wizards who encountered Death and _supposedly_ outwitted him. Legend attributes them as Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus Peverell."

Harry's eyes bulged at that family name. He was sure Daphne saw it, as her eyes narrowed, but she didn't stop.

"Death granted them a boon, for they created a bridge from magic, thwarting their impending death if they'd tried to cross the river. Antioch requested an unbeatable wand, the Elder Wand; his hubris led to his murder. Nobody escapes death. There is no magic that can stop it." Daphne's narrowed eyes were stern and resolute.

Harry held her gaze and nodded, showing he understood the lesson.

"Cadmus Peverell sought another way to defeat Death. In his hubris he humiliated Death. His boon was the creation of a stone capable of returning the departed back to life, the Resurrection Stone. There is no returning the souls of the departed, magic is not capable of it breaking the natural order. The stone brought back their spirit but their appearance brought them terrible agony and they were intangible. Cadmus commits suicide, he sought to join those he longed for, Death claimed the second brother."

Daphne stood up from her seat, and walked over to where Cuddles had just finished eating a burnt-to-crisp rat. She scooped her up and ran her hands along her scales. Harry could feel the contentedness of his familiar, a full belly and affection being showered upon her. Daphne sat on the edge of the desk, still stroking his little dragon before she continued.

"The third brother, Ignotus Peverell, did not seek to humiliate Death. He was wise and knew seeking power, like his eldest brother did with the Elder Wand, the Death Stick, was fraught with folly. That defying the natural order wasn't possible, unlike his brother Cadmus and his Stone, and so he sought a different path. He asked for Death's own Invisibility Cloak, one that would hide his soul from Death itself. Though Death sought revenge, he was unable to find the youngest brother. It was not until he passed the cloak down to his heir that he met Death once more, this time as if they were old friends, for Death respected his wisdom, his guile, his cunning."

Harry felt goosebumps creep across his skin, a shiver ran down his spine. His pupils were dilated and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He struggled to control his breathing, he took deep and fast breaths through his nostrils as he tried to understand the gravity of the connection his brain just made.

Death's Invisibility Cloak was said to hide the _soul_ of Ignotus Peverell. His cloak did that _exact_ thing. Fleur had said it shouldn't be possible. And, most pertinent, the centaur called him Son of Peverell. The words were burned into his head.

_Listen, O wizard! Give ear, Son of Potter!  
_ _We discern the mysteries of magic;  
_ _We unravel the signs in the stars.  
_ _The Heavens speak, heed our words!  
_ _Battle approaches, blood will spill;  
_ _Red will stain the leaves this eve!  
_ _Prepare yourself, harden your heart;  
_ _The path is narrow, you must not tarry!  
_ _Your crucible comes, salvage salvation!  
_ _Listen, O wizard! Give ear, Son of Black!  
_ _Narrow is the path, your crucible comes;  
_ _Salvage salvation, Son of Peverell!_

Narrow is the path. It was something that had been on Harry's mind. The fact it echoed the warning from the Sorting Hat, '_Be wary of your path. All that have walked it have fallen...'_. Harry hadn't forgotten.

His crucible was coming, it matched what the Hat had said to him. Rescuing salvation, rescuing his deliverance from harm, ruin or loss… What did that mean? He still had no idea.

But now, in the heart of the Chamber, he was hearing about three mythical brothers. One of which just happened to have a special item that did the _exact_ thing as his father's cloak.

Fuck. He knew his cloak was special, Fleur did too… But this… this was fucking bonkers.

Harry blinked, once, twice, a third time, in rapid succession. Fingers were being snapped in front of his face.

"Are you listening to me, Harry?"

Harry turned his eyes toward the voice and caught an eyeful of cleavage, his eyes rising up Daphne's body while she was leaning forward and snapping her fingers in his face. He'd zoned out in thought.

"I said," Daphne's voice cut through the air once more, now that she had his attention, again, "wizarding children have access to accidental magic, potions, enchanted items and so much more. Magic is wonderful and often unforgiving. It is a lesson taught from childhood. Magic is not to be trifled with, never go against the natural order of things."

The way she was looking at him was a cause for concern. It was like when they were back at the Hufflepuff table, right after she was resorted. Daphne knew something, she knew something that he'd prefer to keep quiet.

"Do you not understand what I'm telling you?" Her tone wasn't mocking or scathing, she wasn't sneering at him.

"I get the point of the story. You explained it well."

Daphne let out a short breath. "No, that part is obvious. Do you get why I told you _that_ story?"

The first thing that came to Harry's mind was that she knew of a connection between the Potter's and Ignotus Peverell. He was going to feign ignorance and hope for the best. Fleur and, more than likely, Dumbledore knew. He didn't want anyone other than them knowing.

Harry shook his head. "No not really…?" He doubted Daphne couldn't see through his horrid ability to lie. He really needed to get better at that.

"Rituals aren't wholly natural." She let her words sink in before she carried on and elaborated further.

"They take your natural state and alter it. For each one you do, it takes you further away from what you were originally. Each successive ritual is another step away. At first it is so minor. You're only a couple steps off, how bad could that be? Not much. But, for every step, there is a counter step. You can't go against the natural order without consequence, magic doesn't like it."

Daphne moved back to her chair and put the half-asleep Cuddles onto her lap. She had sat back in the chair, when she'd seated herself, but she kept her perfect posture as she continued to talk about the topic she'd broken him out of his self-study with.

"Ritual sets are designed to reintroduce balance, a naturality to an unnatural process. Think of it like a stone bridge. You are taking out parts that make up the whole and that is bad. A stone bridge isn't meant to be missing material. Each change takes away from its purpose, it unbalances it and loses functionality. Each stone taken away chips away at the whole. A single rock, a couple rocks, that loss can be borne. But each successive one?" She tittered, "The cost grows, the chance of catastrophe climbs."

"Do you see the point now?" Daphne asked Harry. "Do you understand why I'm asking? You're on your _fifth_ set. You're not _dabbling_ in a couple rituals… You've _completed_ over _thirty_ rituals! You've been stripping the bridge down and rebuilding it. A _single_ misstep now could end in calamatic collapse! The whole bridge falling apart!"

Harry didn't think she was appreciating how calm he was being about the whole thing.

"You're following an insane plan! The stakes are your life! Don't you get that?!" Daphne's voice had been rising as she'd come to her conclusion. "How can you be so nonchalant about this?!" She stared at him incredulously, visibly agitated and unimpressed by his demeanor.

Harry looked down at his lap. How did he explain it to her? How does he explain that his entire life has been a struggle? How can he describe just how fucked his life has been since Hagrid barged in through the door, on his eleventh birthday, and declared him a wizard, well, since his parents were orphaned, really.

"I didn't grow up like you, Daphne." He said softly as he slowly lifted his chin, bringing his eyes level with hers. He closed them and gave it one more thought, before deciding to travel down this path.

Harry remembered that Daphne couldn't reveal information she learned down here. Her family would be around his for a long time. Either he'd marry her or offspring of his would marry hers. The Greengrass Heiress was being groomed to take over the position of Steward and she was going to be around him, in some capacity, for a long time. Giving her more insight might be helpful. He couldn't trust her to be impartial but that was fine, there was nothing wrong with trying to turn things to your advantage.

Daphne's head was tilted to the side and she looked puzzled when he opens his eyes again. Her hands were still expertly working Cuddles into a very happy ball of 'if I'm going to die this is the way I want to go' affection-loving miniature dragon.

"I was raised in a magic-hating muggle home. I lived in a storage closet, under a set of stairs, I cooked, cleaned, gardened and did all manners of chores. I was their equivalent of a house-elf."

It was a lot easier to discuss than Harry had thought. He'd been analyzing his life and why he was the way that he was. It felt more clinical than emotional to bring it up now, maybe even cathartic.

"But that's not-"

Harry waved his hand, cutting off Daphne. "It doesn't matter, not anymore. I just want to give you the background information so you can understand."

Daphne slowly declined, then inclined, her head, there was an unsurety to her actions, as if she hadn't put together how this all fits together. Regardless, he had her full attention, her lips now closed, her sharp eyes scrutinizing him closely, all the while she kept his familiar in a state of heavenly bliss.

"Hagrid literally barged through the door and my life went from house-elf pauper to celebrity overnight. I was thrown into a world I didn't understand and manipulated from the get-go. I was pushed into Gryffindor and set to be best friends with the son of a family that would eat shit that spewed out of Dumbledore's arse if he so much as implied it would behove them to."

He'd thought more on the Weasley family. Fred and George flew a car to his muggle neighborhood to break him out of his room. Even that hadn't warrant much reaction. The twins were punished but nobody ensured it wouldn't happen to Harry again. They were good people, they were a good family, he just had to be wary of their loyalty to the headmaster.

"I met Voldemort at the end of my first year and killed Quirrell before he could kill me. I fought the basilisk and a shade of him in my second year. I had a mass murderer, who was actually my innocent godfather, supposedly after me 3rd year and now this year… "

Harry ran his hands through his hair and pulled at the back of his neck. This year… it was such a clusterfuck of a year.

"This year I'm the fourth competitor in the triwizard tournament, tri meaning three, a three person tournament. It turns out it was a supposedly dead Death Eater, who was impersonating the most paranoid bastard of an auror there has been in decades, and the bastard put my name in the tournament. And it gets better…"

Harry let his words hand as he saw Daphne's scrunched up eyebrows and her calculating eyes made it obvious she was working overtime to process all this, new and known, information.

"Voldemort has been after me since birth. The dementors gave me a horrifying and wonderful memory back." Harry closed his eyes. He could see the scene in his mind. It had haunted his nightmares and been a source of longing.

"My mother, she," with his eyes still closed he pictured her red hair, the young woman that had a husband and young son, "she was all that stood between me and him…" Harry could hear the voices, he could hear the raspy voice of Tom Riddle tell his mother to stand aside, to spare her own life, he wasn't there for her.

"She refused to step aside. She refused to not fight for me, her own life be damned. My mother, Lily Potter nee Evans, a muggleborn witch, she was offered to be spared. All she had to do was let Voldemort kill me."

He paused and swallowed, his eyes still closed, picturing the scene. Thinking through what must have been going through her head, his head.

"Riddle wasn't there to torture. He wasn't there to strike fear into the nation with acts of depraved barbarity. No," Harry's voice was hoarse and scarcely more than a whisper, "no, he killed my father, no pain, no torture. He swept up the stairs and planned to end my life with a single curse, a rather humane way for a Dark Lord to kill."

He squeezed his eyelids shut more. He couldn't picture it. He could never imagine a scene where his mother steps to the side. He knew what she did for him, he knew how much his mother loved him. The scene had played over and over in his head for more than a year now.

"The man decrying muggleborns, the great champion of the pureblood movement didn't care about the life of a _mudblood_. He was going to let her live. It was all business, with him. Enter the home and kill me."

"My parents weren't even the target, what a waste... to cut their lives short, like that." He was scornful and his words full of reproach.

"The bastard has been after me since my birth and I want to know _why_." Harry was adamant on that, his earlier hoarse voice was strong and he hadn't yet noticed but he was standing his palms pressed against the desk.

"I've been targeted my whole damn life! You say I'm delving into rituals where the stakes are my life. What difference does it make? My life has never been my own. At least if this doesn't work out, it's my own damn doing, not the manipulations of the headmaster or a plot by Riddle."

Harry heavily fell back into his chair. His point made. It was the one bright spot. He really didn't need Daphne to point out what a stupid fucking decision it was to start a ritual set without knowing it would work out. He was walking along the edge of a knife. Any slip and he'd fall into a precipice of almost unfathomable consequences.

It was all aligning. The Sorting Hat's warning, the word from the centaurs. He could feel it in his bones. There was a feeling of inevitability, like the smell and feel in the air before a thunderstorm. Something was coming and it irked him, beyond belief, that he didn't know what it was.

It wasn't Dumbledore, there was something building there but it was nowhere near a crescendo. He'd just begun his work with Flitwick and McGonagall. Dumbledore's manipulations were naught past the earliest of stages.

He knew it wasn't his advisors, or even Remus or Sirius.

Voldemort's plans weren't ready yet. They were just stymied by Crouch's capture. He could be sure a trap would be sprung on him but not so soon.

Something was coming. He just had no idea what.

"I-" Harry's focus snapped back to Daphne. "I… don't know what to say." The words coming out of her mouth were obviously bitter to admit. "I could tell there was not much love between your muggle relatives but… that bad…" Her hand was covering her mouth, neither of them working on keeping the little dragon content.

Harry watched as his dragon opened its bleary eyes. Cuddles lazed her head back and forth, stretching her neck one way and then the other, a small flame licking out of her nostrils as she exhaled. He smiled when he saw her launch off Daphne and make her way to Harry.

Cuddles deftly flew the short distance and landed on his shoulder, her tail lopping down behind his neck and her head rubbing against his cheek.

Harry leaned into the contact, Cuddles always knew when he needed a little affection. She was always there for him and had bailed him out of his most recent death scare.

"Then Weasley dropping you and Granger leaving the country. Not a banner year, not by any stretch of the imagination" Daphne added, summarizing the basis for Harry's descent into his new home.

"But surely things are looking better now?" She questioned. Seeing Harry's quirked eyebrow she built upon her question.

"You have allies now. You have my father and myself." She grinned at him and raised her hand, twirling it in a tight half circle she gestured down her body. "Then there are the Delacours and potentially the Pavlovs. And, most importantly, Horace Slughorn. A man so well connected even Lucius Malfoy wouldn't dare antagonize him brazenly."

"You're learning from one of the most revered magical minds to ever grace the mortal plane and lead two families."

Harry shrugged. Daphne made valid points, he did have some good things going for him now but it didn't change his situation. He was still the target of the two most powerful magicals alive, Voldemort and Dumbledore. He had an idea of just how outclassed he was by Dumbledore and Voldemort could go toe to toe with him.

"Caught between the two most powerful men of the last century, excluding Grindelwald, whose long been defeated." Harry added bitterly.

"There is that…" Daphne ruefully agreed, her hand reaching back up to her chin, her forefinger tapping it against her chin. "But that does brings us back to what's gone on with you, what we originally talked about."

"What's gone on with me?" Right, she had asked about the order of rituals and how far he had gotten.

"The setup is brilliant, progressive and conservative. Enhance the mind, ground your personality and ensure your head can handle the changes that are to come. Then ensure your body and your magic recovers and replenishes itself before it is strengthened and the depths of your ability grow. Always enhancing your body before your magic." She crossed her legs again though she was still leaning in and was clearly delighted by the conversation.

"I don't know what the final two sets are doing exactly but the first five are conservative in their order and comprehensive in that they cover every part of you, mind, body and magic. Topping it off with magical ability enhancements and 'special' rituals devised by Salazar Slytherin himself." She was practically gushing at this point and Harry's attention span waned for moment, he missed a little of what she was saying before he tuned back in.

"With the way it's all setup there is no _way_ it would! Don't you agree, Harry?"

"I'm… not ... sure." He watched her closely, hoping to get an inkling of what she'd asked but all he got was an eye roll.

"I can't speak to your mentality that well. I _think_ you are more rational and less prone to acting before thinking. You are more in control of yourself and are more organized but I don't know for sure, it's not like we spoke much before."

She shot him a wry grin.

"As to your body," she blushed and raked her eyes over Harry, "You look closer to seventeen than fourteen. You've grown and filled out…"

"Oh, you like what you see, Daphne?" Harry could help but smirk at her, especially after having been caught looking her over.

"Mmm… yeah…" Daphne blinked once, a look of utter surprise came over her face. Embarrassed, her hand shot to her mouth and she coughed into her palm.

"Is that why you talked with Natalia, offering to share me?"

It was wondrous to see her off balance, she always tried to stay composed and in control, getting her out of her comfort zone and reacting, without control, was not an easy task.

"She's told me. Natalia's promised no more games, no more manipulations. She'll swear an Unbreakable Vow to me. Her near death has refocused her on what she wants, and that is, apparently, me." He told her simply. "Did you want to tell me what you were scheming with Natalia about?"

Daphne sighed. "She wasn't supposed to do that…" The Hufflepuff ran her hand down her face.

"Look, we are competing with Fleur, Fleur _Delacour_. A family that has ties to yours." She lifted up one of her fingers, "Fleur is part Veela, for Merlin's sake," she lifted up a second finger, "she's French and has the cute accent," another finger joined the first two, "she's seventeen and is both skilled and powerful, magically," two more went up, tallying five in total.

"How do we compete with that? I didn't even get into the fact that she's a Delacour." She seemed a little exasperated and, Harry mused, annoyed at having to outline the reason for her actions.

"I can only have one child and my sister can only have one, unless we fix whatever is wrong with our family. You have two families to repopulate, taking multiple wives is somewhat expected, nobody with ambition wants to pop out kids like a Weasley." There was a challenging look in her eyes to see if he would take exception to that.

"So you have one kid, and hope to fix the issue, though that's not guaranteed, and Natalia helps sort out that issue?" Harry saw the given here but wanted to see if there was more that she had come.

"Well two girls, instead of one... Natalia is gorgeous and, unless you don't like my body type, there isn't a better looking girl at Hogwarts, though Sue and Hannah are right there with me…" She tilted her head and thought about it.

"No other years have girls that can compete?" Harry amusedly asked, finding the situation humorous.

"There is Chang in Ravenclaw, though her personality is _not attractive._ Trust me Harry, you don't want to date her, high-maintenance isn't even a strong enough term, Cedric is in for it with that one…"

Huh, that was interesting to hear, Cho was a bit of a crush of his. She was smart, athletic and feisty. She was cute and he noticed her when he played quidditch with her. He might have dodged a bullet there.

"Hmm, there are a few good options in the upper years of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff but you could do better. I hate to admit it but Gryffindor has some good looking girls. Katie Bell is from a good family and is developing quite nicely. Even worse, the Weasley girl will be a stunning redhead when she finishes puberty, though the James and Lily Potter recreation is a tad creepy." She shuddered as she pondered that thought.

"As much as I love my father, I don't want to marry a guy that looks just like him, that's repulsive." She grimaced this time.

Harry let out a laugh. This was almost surreal. He's getting Daphne's opinion, given to him, on which girls are good looking and if there are good prospects for him in Hogwarts.

"Slytherin is out right now. Last year's graduating class had an option or two but.. That's four years now and one of them is in a contract, the other in negotiations. Though Victoria might be worth considering, beautiful, smart, cunning and an amazing arse you could bounce a galleon off." Harry didn't expect to see the slight look of longing on her face. He had to follow it up.

"Were you attracted to her?" He tried to keep a neutral face.

Daphne looked at him, thoroughly unimpressed. "No Potter. I don't like women and neither does Natalia. I can just appreciate when another woman has attractive features. Just like it doesn't make you gay to recognize that Cedric is a handsome young man."

"Whatever, back to the topic at hand. We get our children out of the contract, Natalia isn't a sole wife and can have a less demanding role, as your wife, and can still have a ballet career. You solidify a strong alliance here and abroad, with the two of us, and that works well for political and economic strength. The package, together, matches or exceeds what Fleur offers alone. That was the thought."

Harry wasn't sure if that was everything, she seemed too forthcoming with this. Yes, Natalia had exposed the plan but Harry had this lingering feeling in his gut that there was more there still.

"Why would you have not tried to convince Fleur, instead Natalia?"

Daphne scoffed. "Fleur Delacour share? Why would she? Her heritage breeds true, she's impossibly beautiful. With just her looks and academic record she'd be one of the most sought after young women in France. Being a Delacour, she's almost in a category of her own. Who else matches her?

If Natalia was the heiress, she'd be close, though a lesser match from a political viewpoint and family history… Think of if Cedric was Draco Malfoy and his family wasn't complete pillocks. Oh, and they'd have to have a much longer history as well. Really, the only detractor would be their issue of heirs. You have two families and she's the heiress. Three children would be the absolute minimum but six would be the preferred minimum. That's a lot for a single witch to pop out… It was rumored they were in negotiation to obtain all the heirs from Fleur to remain Delacours…"

Harry smirked internally. Typical Daphne, even complimenting Fleur, genuinely, she finds a way to make it more of a backhanded compliment.

"That's not for me to worry about right now. I'm focused on magic while Horace handles that side of things.

"Think of how that could work. Veela are known to have mostly females. You could be the anti-Weasleys. Six girls and one boy!" Harry could hear the teasing lilty to her voice, the tightened corners of her lips giving it away as well.

Harry laughed, that would be kind of horrible.

"What are you going to do about Natalia now? Are you going to get her to swear a vow?" There was a hidden question there, if Harry took Natalia then Daphne had a way in, not that they've even really acted on it.

Daphne was _very_ attractive. If things were a little different then he might have acted upon it. Daphne hadn't made any major overtures, she'd only said she'd be interested in not passing the contract on to progeny, that she was interested in fulfilling the contract but not that she was interested in him more than that.

The two of them could work. Harry could be certain but the times they'd spent together he can easily see how they were becoming friends and it was guaranteed they'd be close allies. Harry didn't want to act on anything there. He thought Daphne may actually like him but he wasn't sure. She was one to keep those feelings from becoming obvious and public. If he had to be in an arranged marriage, he wasn't too opposed that the Greengrass heiress was the match.

"I don't know. I don't want her to dictate her life based on the first traumatic event she's experienced. She was essentially tortured and is recovering, mentally, not physically. What kind of a person would I be if I capitalized on the worst moment in her life and made her mine for life? Even if she was forever loyal to me, and I made the vow ultra constrictive. What would happen if she grew to resent me?" Every time he thought of getting Natalia to swear a vow to him his stomach became uneasy. It just felt wrong to take advantage of her vulnerability.

"You're too bloody noble Potter." Daphne snapped at him. "You have the chance to gain a _powerful_ ally. This event could turn the tide. They are a ruthless family. They should have been strung up at the end of the Grindelwald war, heinous war crimes were affiliated to the Pavlov family. It was only how instrumental they were in helping the ICW which allowed them to escape unscathed, save for their reputation."

"You think I don't know that?" Harry asked with some heat in his voice.

Harry expected Daphne to bite back at him, she looked like she was ready to rip his head off, or castrate him.

"Do you understand the position we've put ourselves in Potter?" Daphne bit out through gritted teeth, it was clear and obvious she was withholding the bulk of her frustration and anger.

"We have publicly declared our allegiance. There is no walking away now. We are against the Dark Lord. There is a reason I'm in Hufflepuff now. There would be legitimate safety concerns if I'd stayed there. As it is I already have to keep an eye out for Astoria."

She leaned forward and continued glaring at Harry. "This isn't a game. My family has been threatened over this. My sister and I have been brought up in rape threats. And if the Dark Lord comes back? We'll be a priority target. A pureblood family taking a stand, like the Meadows, the Potters, the Longbottoms, the McKinnons, the Prewetts. Do you need me to go on?"

Harry shook his head and kept quiet. He was going to let her vent before rejoining.

"Every pureblood family that took a stand, the Death Eaters did their best to make an example of. Did you know the Dearborns didn't even fight? They just spoke out once in the paper. Pieces of the patriarch were scattered across Diagon Alley, outside the shop they owned. His wife and two daughters. One week later the youngest was dropped outside the ministry. What happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom is a kindness compared to what she endured. Her sister a few days later and the mother… She wasn't tortured much. She was raped and more... but they were cruel. They forced her to watch what happened to her daughters…"

Daphne was silent for a moment and she bowed her head. When she brought it back up there was a fierceness there that almost shocked him. "She was released back to the public. She told of the horrors that happened and was prevented from killing herself multiple times. When she was finally released from Saint Mungo's she killed herself within a day."

She stood up and leaned over the desk now.

Cuddles must have felt the tension that had grown within the room. She perked up and raised her hackles, crying out a warning to Daphne and puffing some smoke.

"That is the fate we are risking. You talk about not taking advantage of someone in a weakened state. You talk about callously following through with something that can end your life! Well it's not just yours now. We are tied to you! If you lose, _we _lose. If the Dark Lord returns and you lose, everyone who supports you is dead, tortured, or worse. Get that through your thick head! This is _war_!" She slammed her hands down on the desk and leaned over further.

"This might just be the prelude to it but it's coming. You know it, I know it, Slughorn knows it and so does bloody Dumbledore! I don't want to hear of your damned Gryffindor nobility holding you back." She hissed at him. "You take this offer to father and Slughorn. Brief them and make some plans. We can't afford to lose, so damn well make sure we don't miss opportunities."

"You done?" Harry asked as Daphne started to lean away, backing off from her heated word.

Harry stood up now, his right hand securing Cuddles as he did so, not that the little dragon needed it. When he stood Cuddles jumped off his shoulder and flew circles around them, spewing short bouts of fire here and there as she did so, creating a racket with her screeches and flamethrowing.

"They already know. I told them and it's _far_ more complicated than that. The Pavlov family is staunchly anti-veela. I can't easily ally myself to them and then continue a strong relation with the Delacours. That would create a rift."

He glared back at her. He wasn't the same naive boy that she went to school with. His mind was being sharpened every day by Salazar. Each time he ran through things with Cyrus and Horace he learned and added to his growing understanding of the wizarding world. This wasn't checkers. Each move affected far more than just its immediate surroundings.

"You don't even know about the other overture they made." Harry scoffed at her. Daphne wasn't in the know the same way as her Father was. "Macnair isn't missing. He's dead, his body is never being recovered. He was kidnapped, interrogated and won't ever see the light of day. Ivan gave me a transcript of what was gained. All the Death Eater activity that he was, is and had ever been aware of."

Harry reached out with his magic and called Cuddles back to him. The pent up fury Cuddles was releasing felt like his own. When he got agitated she often was as well. Already he felt like much of his frustrations were gone.

"I'm trying to put together a council and I need a general. I need someone who knows war and how to win one, even an ugly guerilla one like the last one. Ivan was auditioning, he's smart, he's heard the rumors. Natalia is willing to permanently bond herself to me and her father is providing vital intel that we need to know at the same time?" He was calming right down now. He had to go meet with others soon and he needed to be sharp, not emotionally or mentally tired.

Harry turned his attention to Daphne and she looked properly chastised now. She was acting on incomplete information and had just learned her lesson. This isn't the same dunderhead she'd observed in classes through the years. He'd changed, he'd grown and was coming into his own.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I let my worries affect me and took it out on you." She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in, then out, heavily. "Astoria was almost corned by a seventh year Slytherin. Susan caught up to her first and prevented anything but it's had me worried. I can take care of myself but Astoria is only a second year." She bowed her head in her seat.

Harry understood, well, not fully actually, he didn't have siblings or family to worry about. But he would well imagine what that's like and it wouldn't be fun. He saw the agony Ron was in when his little sister had been taken. He saw the worried Weasleys when they returned from the Chamber and the relief they had at her safe return.

"I get the position your family is in now and I'm grateful for the help. Your father is a wizard at finances and is setting things up for my families future. But there is a lot more going on here that you don't know." Harry looked around.

"Do you even realize like where we are? Do you stop and think we are in Salazar Slytherin's greatest work. That's what the Sorting Hat told me."

Daphne perked back up. "The Hat knew about this place?" She shot him a shrewd look.

"The hat knew and warned me. The last person to venture down here was Voldemort, though he became '_unworthy' _of being Salazar's heir somehow… The hat told me I'm walking a fine line and that all those who have come have fallen short of… what bothers me most, what keeps me up is that I'm _choosing_ to follow the exact path that Tom Riddle took."

Daphne's eyes narrowed at his words. "You don't know that for sure. You don't know he did down here."

She was right, he didn't know for sure. "I may not but Horace was his head of house. In Riddle's fifth year he went from a top student in his year to an otherworldly talent. He dipped into rituals and became a student in a league of his own. A student who for the first four years was talented and one of the best in his year became something else. Sound familiar?" Harry asked mockingly. He really didn't like that he had unwittingly followed the footprints of Riddle.

Daphne didn't need to say anything, her expression said the 'oh' for her.

"You worry about your family, Horace worries about politics, and our Hogwarts peers worry about their grades, their friendships, and their romantic prospects. The other Triwizard Champions worry about the tournament but not me. I worry about something far worse. I'm haunted by the thought that I might become the _next_ Voldemort. That every action I take, to ensure my survival, leads ever downward, into a descent that is too steep to climb back out of, a sole direction that ends in becoming a Dark Lord."

Harry had sat back down into the chair, the same one he was sure Riddle had spent countless hours studying in, just like him.

"You said I should take advantage of Natalia's weakness, that it's for the benefit of the war. It's an easy thing to do... but where do I draw the line? It's okay to get an unbreakable vow from an emotionally compromised teenage minor but where do I stop? When does that line get pushed to it's okay to torture to get information? When does it become acceptable to eradicate a family because they were supporters of the Dark Lord and you worry if you leave the teenaged children alive they could become enemies in the future? What line will it be that brings an end to Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, that gives rise to the next Dark Lord?"

Daphne didn't respond right away but Harry expected that. What do you say to that being dropped on you?

"I'm going to win. I'm going to become everything that I can be. We're going to remove the Dark Lord and there _will_ be future generations of Potters and Blacks. I do this or I die; it's really that simple. I just worry that the cost of winning will come at the price of losing myself."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes, that she didn't fully believe that was possible, that he'd always been a good little noble Gryffindor at heart.

"Tell me Daphne, what would you do if Astoria had been kidnapped and raped? What if you were a part of the force going in to rescue her? Would you kill the whole family, children and all? Would you turn them over to the Ministry to stand trial? What would you do if they defiled her, tortured her, broker her? Could you lose yourself? Could you do unspeakable things in your fury?"

Harry knew his point had been made. He saw it in the depths of her eyes. She'd burn the world to save her sister. But that was okay. Daphne Greengrass couldn't actually burn the world down. Daphne Greengrass wasn't Voldemort, she didn't have his power. She couldn't walk up to the Maginot Line and create the day that become infamous in France: Le Premier Sang de Maginot.

One day Harry could. One day he'd be a titan of magic. One day he'd have the power to burn down the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been pretty well a whole month to get an update done, a plot heavy one at that! I've finished my course and am awaiting marks before I can book the exam. Sadly, in the New Year I'll have to study a whole lot but that will be the end and I can get back to it after that. Though I will try for another chapter before then. I really don't like a whole month passing without an update.
> 
> Thanks to Nauze for the beta work, he got to it really quick to get it out. Thanks to Handers for the French help on Le Premier Sang de Maginot.
> 
> Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays to everyone. Have a lovely season.
> 
> Thanks, as always, for the support. Feel free to join the Discord group invite code: discord.gg/KCkSTUn


	33. Baring It All

He had butterflies in his stomach. There really shouldn't be. He'd fought against a basilisk, acromantulas, and even Voldemort himself, twice even. Yet here he was, approaching the entrance to Fleur's room and he was nervous.

It wasn't meeting Fleur that was making his stomach flutter, not in the least, though she could make other parts of him do other things… No, no no, it's really best not to think about that right now. He'd only seem those glorious masterpieces of physical perfection once, the two handfuls of warmth that kept lingering in his thoughts and haunting his dreams, as much as he'd wanted to go and keep advancing that burgeoning aspect of their relationship.

No, that part was something that was practically plaguing him, in the very best of ways. What had his stomach full of flutters was visiting the Delacour family again. He'd been to visit them a few times now, at their home, but this was different. The betrothal negotiations were going well, he'd been told, with very few impediments, only good faith negotiations. The economic aspects were covered and the political points were well under control, the Potter and Delacour families had historically similar viewpoints, much of this already established with the close ties from recent generations.

This didn't feel like just another visit. This request to come felt more along the lines of a final size up of a suitor for their daughter, the heiress of a prestigious French family. Slughorn had confirmed as much, as the request hadn't come through Fleur, like usual, Patrice was the one who made the request, through Slughorn.

There was more to it than that, however. Horace and Cyrus knew they needed more allies, they needed more bodies on what they were terming to be the Council. Dumbledore had his Order of the Phoenix, like Alastor Moody, Voldemort had his Death Eaters and his Inner Circle ones, like Bellatrix Lestrange, and Harry's team needed to assemble their own. They couldn't prepare and wage a war with just the three of them. They needed to begin preparing.

The goal wasn't to raise an army. This wasn't a conventional war. They wouldn't be assembling arms, training forces and sending them out onto the battlefield. Terming this stage as a war was a misnomer. This really felt more like covert operations, economic and resource warfare. The type of actions done in Guerilla warfare or sabotage. The entire goal was to dismantle Tom Riddle's powerbase, should he return, and remove future threats.

Unfortunately, as great as each individual person was, Harry, Horace and Cyrus, they had the makings of a strong core group but it wasn't enough. They needed to recruit new members and ensure the quality of them was kept up.

They had a few candidates, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Patrice Delcaour, and Ivan Pavlov were amongst the ones which Harry knew were in consideration. Cyrus and Horace had candidates of their own that they were looking into. One of the plans for Harry, for tonight, was to assess and possibly bring the Delacour family into the know. They wouldn't learn everything, but, with the proper oaths, they may get to learn of Voldemort's survival and the need to begin combating a possible return in earnest.

Patrice, Apolline and Fleur were the easiest people on the list, and the most likely allies. While they had an agenda, by asking for Harry's attendance tonight, Harry had one as well, and his own plans would more than likely throw theirs off kilter.

One of the things Harry was adamant, refusing to _ever_ consider giving ground on, was on secrecy and foolproof ways to ensure they could not be betrayed. It cost his parents their lives and they had magical ways to ensure it _never could happen_. If the Delacour family wanted to know what was really going on in Magical England than they'd be making the oath. It doesn't matter who the person was, no oath, no information. In fact, he was so paranoid about it he wouldn't let Horace or Cyrus bring anyone up to speed without his presence. He trusted his two advisors but why take the risk?

Harry's feet carried him Fleur's door and he knocked. Now, he was just waiting for her to answer and let him in. The door swung open and Harry was shocked by the sight before him.

It was Fleur. But not how he expected, not at all.

His eyes widened, his breathing stilled and his body froze at the sight of her. Shocked didn't feel like a strong enough word to describe his state of being.

Here was Harry, a red blooded fourteen year old, nervous and thinking about politics and relationship issues and he knocks on Fleur's door only to have the young part veela answer the door in a state of undress that should have had her blushing, have her covering herself, or letting out a screech for him seeing her in such a state of undress.

That wasn't what Fleur was doing. She was smirking at him!

Her smug look all but proclaiming that she'd gotten the response she wanted.

"Are you going to just stand there, 'arry? I thought you'd be _excited_ to see me like this, non?"

Harry blinked, trying to get his senses working correctly. He did not just hear that correctly, did he?

Had Fleur Delacour, the seventeen year old drop dead, you might murder your buddy to see naked, just answered her room, in the Beauxbatons carriage with nothing but a skin tight pair of shorts, that stopped closer to her waist than her knees?

She giggled and covered her mouth, in a futile effort to stifle them.

Harry's jaw was lowered, whenever it had dropped he hadn't noticed, and he tried to form words to say but he was still speechless.

Fleur Delacour just answered the door without a stitch of clothing above her waist! And here she was _giggling_ at his stupefied response, which was doing magical things to her chest, his eyes were mesmerized watching her breasts _bounce_.

Bloody.

Fucking.

Hell.

The whole exchange felt like it lasted for minutes, but, in reality, it was mere seconds, no more than a dozen.

Harry rapidly shook his head, shaking off his shock.

The agreed plan was for Harry to prepare himself then meet Fleur in her room, before the two would depart together. She had asked him to come early, cutting his self-study shorter than he would have liked.

"Aren't you worried someone will see you like this?" Through the whole exchange she'd been smug, sexy and then full of mirth, never worried about others seeing her.

"Non." She replied quickly, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the room.

"Why not?" Harry really wanted to know.

"Magic." She told him cheekily.

Fleur pulled him to the sitting area and then abruptly span around facing Harry, advertently giving him a full look at her exposed chest.

There _must_ be some sort of sorcery involved here. Every time he saw her tits bounce, his eyes refused to not follow the savory sight, much less blink, or blaspheme against all that is holy by looking away.

Yes, he had spent time with Lucia. Even though she had a set on her as impressive, arguable either way, this was far more difficult. That had been rather awkward and the point had been to desensitize himself to the naked female form. This wasn't that.

"I thought you'd like me to greet you like this. Perhaps I should put some more clothing on, non?"

Harry could hear her teasing tone, it had a strong undercurrent of supreme satisfaction. Harry was sure she loved throwing him off so much, with just her body.

Harry didn't give her the opportunity for that. He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers, his left hand starting on her hip and working its way up her back while his right hand started on the same spot, just on the opposing side, and worked its way up the left front side of her body. His fingers tracing, skirting around the outside of her breast, teasing, tickling her. He felt vindicated with his deliberately frustrating movements when she pushed her chest forward, his hand palming her soft warm flesh and hardened nipple.

Harry really hadn't expected he'd be getting his hand to such an amazing place again today. It had only happened once and he wondered if she'd allow it to progress that far again, anytime soon. It might have just been a way to drive out the dark thoughts that the Maginot Line memory had put into his mind but, obviously and thankfully, he'd been wrong about that.

Instead of backsliding, their physical relationship, had, apparently, opened the door wide open to the next stage.

But Harry wasn't thinking about what this could mean. His right hand kept massaging her and his left continued to work up and down the back of her body. It freely roamed from her hair all the way down to her derrière.

They kept at it, lips moving together, tongues battling and Harry using his hands to explore and massage her body. The moans, gasps and soft bites were ecstasy, turning up the dial on his excitement.

Suddenly Fleur groaned, longer and deeper than she had been, and pulled away, her eyes full of lust and desire, breathing heavily and her chest heaved after she sucked in, then held, a deep breath.

In a single fluid motion, she shoved him back, both hands pushing his shoulders, forcing him to fall back onto the couch, into an uneven, slouched position.

Harry gazed up at her, his body feeling the loss of her body heat, his hormone addled mind wondered what she was doing, what she wanted by pushing him onto the couch.

He was momentarily worried that his blatant groping had pushed things too far, not that he would have understood that, when Fleur had answered the door half naked, but the fleeting thought had no merit.

Fleur closed the distance between them and she fell forward onto the couch, one knee to either side of him and her hands on the back of the couch, on either side of him. She straddled him and the position lined up her chest right in front of his face, agonizingly close to him.

Harry longed to push up and capture her hardened nipples in his mouth, he longed to kiss and nip at them.

Their eyes met and she slid down his lap, never breaking eye contact, she ground herself against him as she did so.

Harry didn't wait for more encouragement, his hands started on her stomach and slowly, agonizingly, made their way to her chest. He craned his neck and began working on her nipple, with his tongue and lips, licking, just as Lucia had explained a woman would like it.

"Mon dieu, juste comme ça 'arry" The panted words escaped her luscious lips. Her hands were switching between massaging his scalp, running through his hair and pulling it. That she had switched to her native language, well that didn't do anything but make his anatomy twitch, the only word he understood was her heavily accented calling exclamation of his name.

How long they continued for, Harry wouldn't be able to tell. He was in a euphoric bliss, with almost complete access to Fleur's body and her tacit, _vocal_, approval of his hands-on appreciation of her wondrous body. In the meantime, Fleur had ground her body down against him, moaning and enjoying it as much, maybe more, as he was.

At the end, Fleur had collapsed forward onto him and mumbled her love for what they had done. Harry wasn't complaining, having her on him.

"We 'ave to stop, 'arry." Fleur whispered, aghast at the words leaving her mouth. "I wouldn't be able to stop soon… we should stop…" She rested her head against him again.

Harry ran his hands up and down her back, gently caressing her, going nowhere near anything that might be considered sexual, just soothing, calming motions.

"Is this how I should expect to be greeted everytime I come to the carriage?" Harry teased her, his voice soft and playful, a grin stretching across his face as he looked down, his chin tucked as he buried his nose in her silky smooth silver hair.

"Did you not like it, enjoy it?"

"I did… I really did…"

"I do not know…?" She said it in such a way that it was somewhat of a question. "Veela are tactile, touchy-feely. I love to be in contact with you, I like to feel your body against mine, I _love_ to feel your emotions when we are…" She hummed in thought, "'ow do you say? Passionné?"

"Impassioned? When our hormones are running wild, the blood is pumping and all I want is more of you?" Harry summed up the feelings she had tried to express.

"Mmm," She took a long breath in and exhaled slowly, "oui…"

"So you're saying, because you are part veela, that you want to show off your _incredible_ figure and feel me react to physical affection, that we'll be doing a whole lot more of this?" Harry tried to gesture to her naked upper body, and their intimate position, but with his hands behind her back it was a futile endeavor.

"Oui."

Harry already considered himself bloody lucky to have snogged Fleur, getting to grope her was the fulfillment of an adolescent dream, but hearing this…. He really was a lucky bastard. Well, if you considered the Dark Lord murdering his parents and still being after him… maybe things were starting to pile up on the positive side, trying to even out the metric fuck-ton of shit he'd had to deal with his whole life.

"Are you sure it's fine to answer the door sans shirt?" Harry asked, he was still bothered by that, anyone could have seen! It was her body but his preference was definitely that he was the luckiest guy at Hogwarts, not one of them.

Fleur giggled softly, "French, really, 'arry?"

Harry tried to shrug but it wasn't very effectual with Fleur resting on him still, restricting his shoulder movement.

"Are you worried someone else will see, are you jealous someone else may see, 'arry?" Harry could tell she was poking fun at him, with her questions, there was no worry or nervousness.

Harry frowned, trying to come up with a reason for that. Fleur had never dressed in a slutty or super provocative way, that he could recall.

"There is an Aversion Charm on the door." Fleur told him, simply, as if it explained everything.

Harry looked down at her blankly. He wasn't really sure what it meant. He knew the meaning of 'aversion' but that didn't give him a clear understanding of the charm. Did it make people have a strong disinclination to the door?

Fleur pushed herself up and was pouting at him, her bottom lip protruded. She looked so cute and sexy, her body exposed and open to his eyes again.

Harry forgot that he was talking with Fleur for a moment, until Fleur covered her chest with her arms. "Will you listen now, 'arry?" The wry smile indicating she wasn't upset he was distracted by her body once more.

Harry blushed lightly and nodded.

"The charm is the predecessor and basis for the Fidelius Charm. While the successor 'ides a location, the Aversion Charm makes people strongly not wish to be in, nor take notice of, an area. I put one on my room, I've 'ad to 'ave one on my door since I started at Beauxbatons," she added this little note, looking away from him.

"Is it a well known charm?" Harry hadn't heard of it and was curious, wanting to study up on it.

"Non. Like the Fidelius, it is notorioutely difficult."

Harry used a small cough to hide his laugh at her mispronouncing the word. "Notoriously." He gently corrected. Really, she had a rather impressive vocabulary and she wasn't bothered by making mistakes, in short order she'd be fluent and sound more like a native speaker, Harry figured, she only had a minor accent already.

Fleur wrinkled her nose, and her eyes narrowed, before her lips broke into a small smile. "The downside is the person who casts the spell is the only one that can bring or allow you to look past it. You 'ave to be present to guide them though and you can take precautions to get past them, when you are looking for someone, or some place."

"So, because they are obscure, and nobody is looking for Aversion Charms, they work well?"

Fleur shifted her head side to side and pinched her lips, "Oui".

She stood up and took a half step back. "I need to get ready, I don't think you wish for me to show up like this you in front of Papa, Maman and Gabrielle, non?"

Fleur sauntered off toward her bedroom, sashaying away, with her hips having exaggerated movement to give her shapely derrière a magnetic sway. Just before she turned the corner, heading out of his line of sight, she looked back at him, over her shoulder, and gave him a sultry wink.

Harry grinned, it was good to be him sometimes, those shorts didn't leave much to the imagination.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Welcome Harry." Patrice held out his hand, a strong handshake ensued. Harry smiled at the man and then looked at the other two.

Apolline was a vision of beauty, just as she always was. Seeing her, a woman who'd had two children and could still easily fulfill the fixture of teenage wet dreams. Elegance and beauty personified in a single package, a warm and loving mother, a woman who Harry couldn't help but like and enjoy his time when around her, she just simply cared for his well being, no more, no less.

"'Arry!" Apolline embraced him next, kissing his cheek before wrapping him up in a warm hug.

"Are you going to say hello to 'arry, Gabrielle?" Apolline asked her youngest, who was standing there, her knees touching, with her right one bent and a little in front of her left, her hands, and arms, pressed against her body, her fingers locked together and wriggling. Gabrielle had her eyes looking down at the bottom of her dress, or possibly her stocking clad feet.

Harry exchanged a glance to Fleur, her sister hadn't come and greeted either of them, she'd stood demurely, frozen to the spot she occupied. Fleur shot him a tight smile, one that didn't reach her eyes, eyes that betrayed the worry for her adorable little sister.

Harry bent down to one knee, lowering himself to be the same level as the shy little girl in front of him. "Gabrielle," he said, keeping his voice soft and light, "I have someone very special that I'd like you to meet." His words drew her attention, her eyes lifting up from her feet for the first time since he arrived, "Her name is Cuddles and I know she'll love you."

Harry heard Fleur drew in a sharp breath. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement, her hand flying to her mouth, covering it. Harry ignored the curious, questioning glances of the elder Delacours, keeping his attention on the little girl in front of him, one that was far less rambunctious, energetic and outgoing than before.

The youngest silver-blonde haired female didn't verbally respond but Harry could see a hopeful expression on her face, even if she was still rather guarded to his presence.

He slowly moved his arm and reached into his pocket. HIs hand grasped his familiar and he slowly withdrew her, Cuddle's appearance eliciting gasps from the little girl's parents.

"Now, I must tell you she _loves_ to cuddle and be pet. Do you think you'd like to do that?" Harry asked gently and with a sprinkling of excitement.

He got a series of short nods, excitement danced in her eyes and her hands came apart, her palms up and open, reaching forward a tiny bit, toward the little dragon.

Harry lowered Cuddles to the ground and let the dragon walk the distance between the two. As she got close Harry saw Gabrielle begin to recoil away from the dragon and he moved closer, just a foot away from her and within easy reach of his familiar.

"She likes to be pet like this." Harry ran the back of his fingers along her head, down her neck and over her body, repeating the motion.

Cuddles almost melted but kept moving toward the little girl. When she got to her destination Gabrielle hand her open hand down her neck and giggled. Whatever excited words that she said in french were lost on him but the overall situation wasn't. Gabrielle sported a huge grin and she moved closer and then glomped his poor dragon, she squealed as she hugged his small familiar.

Harry felt Fleur's hand on his shoulder, he stood up and looked at her. Fleur hugged herself to him and her eyes were full of emotion as she clung to his arm. "Merci 'arry, merci." Her voice was thick as she watched a gleeful Gabrielle chatter excitedly to her mother, she was holding Cuddles and looked like she was in heaven.

"She's been…" Fleur started out before trailing off. She swallowed and continued, her voice not much more than a gentle whisper, "she's 'ad a rough time recovering."

Harry nodded, he could will imagine how difficult the Second Task would have been on the poor girl. To be captured by giant man-eating spiders, wrapped up and kept a prisoner for hours… That would be psychological torturing a small, innocent child. It may have been good for the organizers to have lost their lives, he doubted they'd want to be alive when the family extracted vengeance for what they'd put their little angel through.

"She's safe?" Apolline asked lowly, her eyes affixed to her youngest, "with zis.. Cuddles?"

"Yes. She's my familiar. The only thing unsafe would by anyone trying to harm your daughter. They'd be in for a world of hurt. She's still a dragon and will be ferocious when the situation calls for it but she loves affection and she loves to play. They should have a great time together.

Already Harry could see a whole day of gaiety for them. Cuddles had taken off and was flying around a screaming Gabrielle, the little princess' arms were waving and trying to capture the elusive dragon.

Fleur still had her two hands clenched around his arm and her head dropped onto his shoulder as she watched her sister and Harry's familiar play together. Harry saw a tears leak from her eyes.

"Merci." Patrice said to him as well. "This is the first time I've seen her so lively, so happy and carefree. Merci young man, merci, you have our gratitude."

Harry didn't think it was such a big deal. He knew if he was a little boy, again, he'd love to play with a tiny dragon. He assumed Gabrielle would react similarly, to what he would have, and let his familiar out to have some fun. Plus, openly revealing his familiar to them was a calculated move. Seeing proof of her existence was a power move. Harry had control of a dragon, one that could be sweet and cuddly or vicious and frightening, with the capability of destroying an acromantula colony single handedly. Her appearance was a part of the multi-tiered plan Slughorn, Greengrass and him and come up with.

"Fleur, would you mind supervising your sister? I'm sure you'd love to spend more time with her." Gabrielle was almost out of the entry room and she was running away, shrieking in delight as Cuddles flew after her.

"Of course Papa." She kissed Harry on the cheek and swiftly made her way after her sister.

Apolline used the absence of Fleur to move forward and wrap Harry up in another hug. "Merci." Patrice grabbed his wife's hand and pulled her toward him, wrapping an arm around her back. "Come Harry, we'll explain this a little better."

Harry followed the couple into the family sitting area and wasn't surprised to see a selection of drinks arrayed on the table, it had been prepared ahead of time.

Harry politely requested a tea, when prompted, and sipped at it while he awaited his hosts to get their preferred drinks in hand. When the couple sat together on the love seat, Patrice began to explain what had happened to Gabrielle.

"After coming out of the paralysis, Gabrielle was totally withdrawn. She didn't eat, didn't play, talk, or really do anything. The experience she had been through, it caused her to totally almost shut down, to cave in on herself. She was almost catatonic." He shook his head and drank his specialized coffee, Harry had missed whatever it was that he had his elf procure for him.

"We brought her home but she wasn't improving. She clung to us and barely responded to stimuli… we had to do something."

Apolline continued where her husband had let off. "It is not an easy thing to recover from. We sought to 'ave 'er memories removed but zis is almost impossible. The experience was too long, too dramatic, and too ingrained in her psyche. If it had just been a day, or a short trauma, like a kidnapping attempt, it could be wiped from her mind with little issue. But zis… not this 'orrid ordeal." Apolline glass was shaking, Harry could see the barely controlled anger within her.

Patrice rubbed her arm and took back over. "We hired the top specialist healers we could find. In the end they couldn't remove the incident. Instead they blunted it, they lessened its impact on our Gabrielle. Already, we have begun tutoring her in the mind arts, the best method for dealing with emotional trauma but it is not such an easy thing. She is young, too young to learn this. But, we do what we must."

"Gabrielle's tutors 'ave gone into her mind and done the best they can but it 'asn't been enough. She's been better, slowly recovering but she's not been 'erself."

"Our worry is for the long-term. Part veela already have issues at a magical school and our girl doesn't need any other issues to make it more difficult when she attends Beauxbatons."

Harry listened quietly and hadn't felt the need to interject any of his own words into the conversation yet.

"Zat was until just now." Apolline was smiling at him, her face full of emotion. "What you've done 'as given us 'ope 'arry. Hope our daughter can fully recover. It's the first time we've seen 'er back to normal." Though he could see unshed tears, her disposition was one of hopeful joy, Harry could see how the plight of their young daughter was taking a toll on the family.

"If nothing else, your presence here has been immensely helpful to my daughter." Patrice said and Harry could hear the transitory nature of the sentence, they were about to get into it.

"I had asked you here for a purpose today. Our families have been allies for about half a century and I wanted to clarify some of what your advisors have been discussing with me. While I do not doubt their words, it can be reassuring to hear them directly. I do not take the marrying off of my eldest lightly."

Harry inclined his head and could appreciate the sentiment. Horace had already explained the purpose of this visit. The negotiations were going well and having Harry spend time with them was expected, to ensure they personally approve of him and for the family to get a good measure of Harry, the young man that would be set to marry their heiress.

"I do not believe we will need to discuss the economic portions of the talks, nor the monetary compensation. What I'm more interested in is your viewpoint on matters of a more political and social nature."

Again, Harry acknowledged his words but carefully sipped at his tea rather than answering directly. He'd not been asked a question and was fully composed, showing a relaxed state for discussions that could be onerous and worrisome for a person in his position.

"Firstly, we've heard from Fleur of your more… enlightened… position on veela. Your closeness with my family would indicate it as well but I'd like to hear directly from you as to your position as you've spent time with Natalia Pavlova and her family is a part of the ICW bloc that pushes to render veela as creatures, not as beings that hold full rights as wizards and witches."

This was an expected question, it was fine for Horace to have relayed his position, it was well and good that he'd talked about this with Fleur but him having kept in contact with the Pavlov family allows for a seed of doubt that would have to be dealt with right now.

"All magical beings should have basic rights protected. I'm not well versed enough in the magical and political history to comment on every sentient magical species and the rights they currently hold, or do not hold." His starting disclaimer and not taking a stance wasn't going well, he could see the slightly tightening grip on Apolline's cup, he could see the tightening of the corners of Patrice' mouth. Without the Gabrielle situation unbalancing them he didn't think he'd have seen any sort of reaction but off balance was what he'd aimed for when they'd discussed revealing Cuddles right at the start.

"Having said that, I do not have such an issue with the legal status of Veela. As the Head of House Potter and Regent of House Black, I would be more than willing to support the House Delacour position of Veela's being a magical species with the same rights as Wizards and Witches, including sponsoring bills in the Wizengamot and the ICW, if either is necessary."

Harry could see this is exactly what they had hoped for, Horace had explained exactly what this would mean politically, for him, in both the ICW and Wizengamot. The reversal of House Black's position would be newsworthy and against everything the previous generation had stood for. Even Arcturus Black had been prejudiced and would not have been liable to approve a union with a creature of half-breed, according to Cyrus and Horace. As it was, it would be better for him to have Fleur be Lady Delacour-Potter than Lady Delacour-Black.

The real win for the Delacour family, here, was the position of House Potter. Charlus Potter was a well respected individual and the weight his name carried, internationally, had not yet fully waned. But that wasn't the real coup that they had gained.

Harry Potter was an international celebrity. There were few names as well known as his. Even though it was a domestic conflict, well mostly, the story of the Boy-Who-Lived was known by all. Surviving a curse that nobody had ever survived and doing so when no academic could recreate the incident, was beyond noteworthy.

With the extensive coverage of the Triwizard Tournament, across the magical world, his fame and renown were building, he wasn't just the Boy-Who-Lived, he was Harry Potter, a young man who could be the next magical powerhouse who held the ability to shape a nation.

This was a trifecta coup for them. With Harry publicly supporting their position their support would be bolstered and it may even be possible that their equal-rights status might be ratified across all ICW member nations, assuming this all came together, that is.

"We are so pleased to 'ear that, merci 'arry." Apolline was beaming at him, her look filling him with warmth, he couldn't help but return the happy look.

Harry kept focused and awaited the next issue that he needed to handle correctly, he knew of one more major issue that might come up and he had a plan to turn it around on them, provided they swore the oath his lawyer, Arvid Ackerly, had approved.

"Before we broach the next topic, I wanted to give you some background on our family history on this, so you have a broader perspective." Patrice began, setting his finished drink down, he carefully poured more into his glass before sitting back and returning to the conversation.

Whether that was meant to make him uncomfortable, to unsettle him, or just interesting timing on needing a refill of his drink, Harry didn't know. He had been well coached and following the script had made things go well so far, Slughorn being a political mastermind and Cyrus was no slouch, either. There had been some heated debate, between the three of them, but Harry had laid down his position and told them he wouldn't budge on it. They could convince him of many things but changing _this _wasn't one.

Harry had insisted that the Delacour family be in the know before any marriage contract was completed, the Pavlov family for that matter too, if that was ever explored, that is. His two advisors had tried to point out the naivety of that. France hadn't wanted to get involved in the last war, the Delacour family hadn't given overt support to the Potter family in the last war either, not that any of them were aware of, anyways.

He could have asked Sirius or Remus, but Harry thought they would have mentioned it when he brought up the family previously. Further, Harry didn't want to tip Sirius and Remus off, he had no idea if they'd approve of a marriage contract situation, especially given his age. It was sad that his father's closest friends were not ones he would trust to help him handle this, he didn't trust their opinions, for them to be pragmatic and to discard their emotional responses to the events.

It led to them not knowing for sure if the Potter family had received support from them. The Greengrass family had kept out of the war and Horace Slughorn had kept his head down and out of it the best he could. This led to them voicing that the Delacour family could simply choose to avoid future conflict. They thought the Delacour family had a lot more to lose, potentially involving themselves heavily in a foreign conflict, than staying out and finding a different match for Fleur. There was a lot to gain with Harry, even if war came and he won it, but it was a gamble they simply did not need to take.

They believed showing cards that they could keep hidden was the better route to take. Whereas Harry thought differently. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that there was going to be conflict, him having faced Voldemort twice already, since returning to the magical world, and the recent outing of a deceased Death Eater posing as Mad-Eye Moody. Not letting them know and then having it inevitably come out was not a situation he wanted to face. Causing a rift, or split, in Harry's inner circle wasn't going to be a good thing when shit hit the fan.

If they backed out on him now, they would be dead to him. There wasn't a three strike rule in effect here. In his mind, they'd already burned their sole chance, they hadn't found a way to contact nor assist him prior to this year. Now that they'd been in contact, they hadn't made a single misstep, in fact he'd love to think of them as family one day but their reaction today was going to make or break it.

"The Delacour family used to be much larger. Prior to the Grindelwald conflict, we were closer to having inheritance disputes than only two possible heirs remaining, after myself, of course. My siblings were lost, and any future progeny with them."

Harry heard how it still pained him and waited for him to get to the point.

"In the end I married Apolline, for love." He added the last part and gave his wife a long loving look.

Harry had been amused by it, that it had to be said. In the muggle world it was a given, while this one had to be clarified.

"There was some worry that I would have difficulty getting it approved. My parents had nothing against veela. It was that I am the sole surviving line of our family. Marrying Apolline meant we'd only ever have two daughters. Rebuilding our numbers was a priority, just as it is for you." Patrice said, tying their situation together, somewhat.

"My parents were hesitant but would not deny me; they knew I loved Apolline and accepted, though I know they'd hoped for more children, especially male children." He shared a strained smile with his wife before continuing.

"There was a benefit, of course, one Fleur has shared with you." Harry had the distinct impression that this sharing had been one that had been instructed or approved of, perhaps not something that was brought up naturally. "While I am no slouch magically, Fleur, as you are aware, is very strong magically. She has talent with magic that few of my ancestors could have matched. I believe this was a part of why my family approved of the match. We didn't get the numbers, nor the preferred gender, but the two girls our union has brought, both are impressive, magically."

Harry understood what the point was and waited for Patrice to make it.

"Fleur will be stronger than me soon, she is already far more talented than I ever was. The proven ability for part-veela to breed powerful offspring is a benefit that swayed my parents, along with not wishing to deny me a match made for love." Patrice was explaining this delicately and hinting that sacrificing quantity for quality had merit, that his family believed it to be the correct choice, along with a match made for love, much like what Fleur would have told her parents.

"This leads me to the last sticking point in the negotiations. Fleur can only have three children, a male and two females. While our hope had always been for our daughters to marry men and have all six of their children bear the Dealcour name, we understand your position." Patrice's voice was neutral and his body language was tightly controlled.

"You 'ave the Black and Potter families to look out for. While we are so very pleased you two are finding love, we still 'ave a concern, one Monsieurs Slughorn et Greengrass were not willing to define." Apolline's eyes were far more guarded and the warmth she had radiated toward him was missing. "I 'ope Fleur is your only wife, we are aware you are able to 'ave more zan one and, as 'er famille we want 'er marriage to be a good one." Her eyes were narrowed and she was carefully scrutinizing him, Harry could feel her piercing gaze watching him.

"What my beautiful wife is trying to say is that we hope to have Fleur marry for love. In doing so, we are willing to agree to two children being heirs for your two families and only one would be required to be the next heiress of the Delacour family. It is not our preference but much like your father, who married for love, we are willing to sacrifice potential financial and political gain for Fleur, and yourself, to have a loving future together."

Harry was internally pleased they'd laid it all out there though he was amused that they were unaware Lily Evans _hadn't _married for love, though it had ended up that way. This was the pivotal part of the conversation and one he had to handle delicately.

Harry straightened his posture in his chair and finished the last of his second cup of tea before leaning forward and placing the empty cup and saucer down on the table. He folded his hands together and rested them on his lap, bringing his eyes up, off of them, and focusing back on the conversation. He'd wanted to collect his thoughts and rehearse what he was going to go with before responding.

"I believe Fleur and I have the makings of a loving and long lasting relationship. We get along well, are attracted to one another, and are well matched." That was the easy part, admitting that he really liked their daughter. Next came the delicate part.

"While I understand your points, that there is reason for quality over quantity, and joy to be found in marrying for love, rather than what is most advantageous to the family position, I believe you are operating from a mistaken viewpoint."

Harry didn't miss the way Apolline tensed when he said his last sentence.

"A mistaken viewpoint?" Harry assumed Patrice meant to query in a neutral fashion but there was a small growl in his words.

Harry suppressed his natural response, which was to wince. Mistaken viewpoint was not a tactful wording, he'd buggered the delicate part up a bit. Regardless, he'd soldier on and get from the delicate part to the pivotal one.

"A poor word choice, perhaps." Harry didn't mind admitting that, he wanted them in an amenable mood, not in a combative one. "Operating with incomplete information might've been a better way to say that." Harry didn't wait for them to respond, he wanted to get onto the final part.

"There is pertinent information that less than a handful of people are aware of. Although there are arguments that are valid, I, however, do not wish to make an agreement without the knowledge being offered to you. I believe in being open and honest with my allies and will afford you the opportunity to be in the know."

Harry could see their curiosity was peaked, that, again, he'd unsettled them, that they hadn't expected this. It made Harry inordinately happy to be able to keep doing this, it must be a part of the Marauder's legacy, his enjoyment of seeing people's reactions to surprising circumstances.

"Who are among this… handful?" Patrice had put his hand back on Apolline's forearm, right before she was about to speak, her lips were just parting when he'd done that.

"Myself, my advisors and I believe Albus Dumbledore is aware of most of it, though that is not from our sharing of information. If he has told anyone, I am unaware." Harry could see the list of names had caught their attention too.

The two Delacours exchanged a look and Patrice removed his hand from her forearm. "And zis information is vital to our negotiations?"

Harry shrugged, "I believe so. If I were in your position, I'd want to know and would find it vital information, though I think my lawyer could successfully argue it is not." Ackerly would probably love the challenge, at the rate he charged it should keep him happy.

Harry withdrew the parchment that had the wording for the oath on it that Ackerly had approved of. He passed it to Patrice. "Before I could tell you anything you'd have to swear and Unbreakable Vow with those precise words. Without your agreement I will not disclose anything."

It wasn't much of a risk that knowledge of this would be dangerous to Harry. Their negotiations were covered by a magical contract, so this conversation was privileged to a degree. The way Harry presented it was also misleading. The natural assumption would be that Harry already had an agreement in place for the Black family, one they were unaware of. It could be conditional or have conditions that are not yet met but would be in imminent future.

Cyrus had explained that there were many such agreements that would only betroth two individuals after they reached a certain age. For instance, he could have a signed marriage contract that would only become in effect once both named parties reached their majority. Further, he could have an agreement in principle already. These would be the scenarios that the Delacour family would conclude was the case. Horace believed the demand for an Unbreakable Vow would lead them to believe it was not the case. It would be virtually unheard of to make such a demand to protect another marriage arrangement.

"This is necessary?"

"Unbreakable Vows aren't sworn lightly, never for marriage negotiations." Apolline added, her face looking a little green while her husband was sporting a calculating look to him.

"It is. You can choose to not agree… it is your choice." He tried to make it clear, he would respect their decision to not take it. What Harry was requesting was something most wizards never even contemplated during their lifetime. To swear on your very life was not something done idly.

"I'd also recommend Fleur is brought in for this. I know it is not standard for her to be a part of this stage of negotiations but what I will tell you is something she should be aware of as well." If they didn't let Fleur in, he'd bring her to his business office and update her there, if she was jumping into a life with him, Fleur deserved to know just what she was getting into.

"I-" Patrice paused and glanced at his wife, some form of silent communication exchanging between them, "I don't believe we are willing to consider the vow unless we know more." The Delacour Patriarch was frowning, openly displeased with where things had turned to. What specifically was making him visibly upset, Harry was unaware of for sure. He thought it was either his request or that Harry deemed it necessary and thus it was a critical element that he was being blindsided with.

Apolline added onto her husband's last statement, "It's not our lack trust in you, 'arry. What you ask for… zat is totally extrême."

Harry shrugged, he knew that and was kind somewhat apathetic to it. "Horace and Cyrus did and no one will be in the know that hasn't. Information security is too important."

"You would continue without telling us more?" Apolline asked, not impressed with the prospect.

"Yes." Harry said earnestly. "I've made you aware and given you an opportunity to find out more. I'm even offering you this opportunity before I give my father's best friends the chance to learn what you do." And Harry felt bad about that. Sirius, his godfather, he felt should have been given the opportunity first. But, it hadn't worked out that way. He didn't want even a hint of what the knew to get back to Dumbledore before they were ready to talk with him.

"Would you mind getting Fleur?" Patrice asked him. "We'll discuss it while you fetch her, if that's okay."

"Sure," Harry agreed easily, "I should check on Cuddles too, can't have Gabrielle stealing my familiar." He grinned as he said it and stood.

Patrice called an elf and Harry followed it through the impressive home until he found Gabrielle and Fleur. The scene was something he should have expected to find. Cuddles was in Gabrielle's lap as the little girl was happily petting his dragon, she was chattering away in french, a mile a minute, and looked to be the happiest little girl alive.

Harry leaned into the doorway and just watched the scene. Fleur adored her little sister, she looked so happy as she brushed Gabrielle's long hair, her right hand expertly working the brush and her left hand parting her little sister's hair.

It was such a cute scene. He was sorry he had to interrupt it.

He didn't want to, he was just enjoying watching, the siblings were something he wished he'd had the opportunity to experience something like this. He could easily imagine himself where Fleur was, his hand sliding through his little sister's hair, his other hand brushing out all the knots and tangles, a nightly ritual that helped keep them as close as family could be.

But this was the real world, not what he imagined it should be.

Harry cleared his throat, even if he was reticent to do it.

Fleur looked towards the noise, even as she kept both of her hands in motion and her lips replying to whatever her and Gabrielle were talking about.

Harry waited for her to stop speaking, for when the two sisters both turned their attention to him. "We need your presence, Fleur."

Gabrielle's eyes fixated on him and she practically leaped up and bounded to him in a single step, Cuddle was thrown unceremoniously out of her lap and into the air, where the dragon took flight and shrieked its displeasure at the abrupt turn of events.

Harry quickly found himself being hugged by the cute silver-blonde chatter-box.

"She's telling you all about how much fun she 'ad with your familiar. They played and chased each other, tiring each other out." Fleur was simply glowing as she explained while Gabrielle was clutched onto him, with no end to it forthcoming.

Harry reached down and picked up the little girl by her armpits, quickly lifting her and she promptly wrapped him up in a proper hug. She was still rapidly talking at him but he still couldn't understand her.

Harry's attention was pulled by his speedily approaching familiar, tufts of flame escaping her nostrils as she descended down upon him. Cuddles' sudden appearance drawing more shrieks of delight from the young part veela, as she landed on Harry's shoulder and pushed herself against the young witch.

"Maman and Papa need my attendance?" Fleur asked, bringing things back to why Harry was here in the first place.

"Yes."

Fleur raised her delicate eyebrow at that but didn't comment. She moved to Harry and whispered into his ear "I'll just get Gabby settled then meet you, we can go together."

Harry nodded and let Fleur remove Gabrielle from him, she left and then returned a minute late, Cuddles had stayed with Gabrielle.

Fleur hugged him tightly. "She's so much better today, 'arry! Gabby was just like 'erself, so carefree and 'appy! Merci! Merci! Merci! Merci! Merci!" Between each thanks she quickly pecked him on the lips before the final 'merci' led to a hard passionate kiss.

"I was so worried for 'er. But now… now I know she will be okay." Her eyes were glistening as she stared at Harry, her body an arms length from him now, her hands holding onto his shoulders. "I zink she recognized Cuddles and your magic within 'er."

Harry quirked his head to the side in silent askanance of what that meant.

Fleur dropper her arms and grabbed his hands, gently giving his a tug to get him to walk along with her, hand-in-hand.

"When Gabrielle was paralyzed, in the sac, it was you that saved 'er." She immediately put up a hand, stopping Harry from rebuttal. "When she needed a sauveur, it was your voice she 'eard. Now that she's seen you she 'as gotten better."

Harry thought about it and it made sense to some degree. To the mind of a child, it must have made sense. "But how does that relate to Cuddles?"

Fleur looked at him like he should already know the answer. "Gabby is a veela, she can feel your emotions, she's sensitive to magic. When she 'olds Cuddles she can feel your magic. Wiz that playful little dragon, she feels safe and secure. She has her chevalier and 'is dragon."

Harry looked at Fleur to see if she was teasing him or serious and got the impression that it was serious though her word play may have been teasing.

Their short conversation ended as they had reached the family sitting room. Harry disengaged his hand, from Fleur's, and made to resume sitting where he had been, in a single armchair. He only got a step away from Fleur before she grabbed his arm and redirected him to sit on the couch with her, the one opposite the love seat her parents were in. Harry sat in the corner, directly across from Patrice and Fleur sat down beside him, keeping a strong hold on his arm and directing his hand to rest on her knee.

Fleur's intentional seating arrangement was a message to her parents, she was with Harry and wasn't afraid to show how close they were, or at least, or that is what Harry thought. Harry wasn't going to fight against this, if anything, it helped his positioning in these talks, Fleur was defying her parents, even if it was in a minor way.

"Welcome, daughter." Patrice said and Harry instantly knew his supposition was correct, Patrice was reminding Fleur that he held authority over her.

Fleur's eyes flashed and she reposted her father's comment, "I just love spending time being close to 'arry." She leaned in and cuddled closer to him.

"And we are glad for that, my flower." Apolline was playing the role of peacemaker between a headstrong daughter and a husband who didn't want to weaken their position.

Harry thought it was a good time to kickstart things. "I asked for your presence here Fleur, as I believe your family should be aware of things before committing to anything. I informed your parents an Unbreakable Vow is required before I discuss anything about what you need to know." Harry went to reach forward but Apolline had guessed what he would do and had her hand on the parchment already, extending her arm she held it out for Fleur to take.

The Beauxbatons Champion quickly scanned the paper. "Who will act as the binder?" Fleur asked, no thought given to not being willing to undertake the potentially lethal commitment.

"You would swear it on your life so easily, my daughter?" Patrice questioned sharply, his body language making it clear he was not pleased with this turn of events.

"Oui Papa. 'Arry would not ask this unless it was necessary. I already know of one secret that I'd willingly agree to to this vow for." She indicated to the wording prepared by Ackerly.

Bringing in Fleur was a stroke of genius. Any concessions they may have asked for, or conditions of their own were pretty well mute now.

It didn't take long for them all to agree and for Harry to ensure they all swore the Unbreakable Vow. Although they were within the Delacour home, he added a whole slew of privacy spells, the vow didn't stop them from being overheard.

With Harry's requirements fulfilled, the room took on a solemn mood. Whatever Harry was going to reveal was going to be of the utmost importance.

"I'll just come out and say it, though you may not believe me." Harry took a deep breath, he hoped this went well, he could really use more allies that were all in with him.

"You-Know-Who is not as dead as everyone believes. He's alive, in the form of a spirit." Harry interjected all the believability that he had into that. One thing Harry had already found out was that the Death Eaters were still tracking the jinx on the Dark Lord's name. They were still trying to identify those that dared to say it. Continuing to use the name 'Voldemort' was no longer prudent. It was proven to, at the very least, that they could track it to the location.

The gasps from Apolline and Fleur were expected. Patrice's reaction was the one he watched for. Harry would characterize his visual response as guarded incredulity.

"You have some sort of proof for us?" The elder man asked shortly.

"In my first year he inhabited the body of Professor Quirrel in an attempt to steal the Philosopher's Stone. After his failure, the Flamel's decided to destroy the stone." Since they were an incredibly important French family, Harry assumed the Delacours would be aware of their passing, back in Harry's third year of Hogwarts, he'd had Horace confirm it for him.

"Circumstantial." Patrice commented, not willing to conded anything on just Harry's word alone.

"The biggest break came in my second year. There were attacks in the school, students were petrified." Understanding that his comment could be mistaken he quickly continued. "It was then that I came across what we have figured out is a horcrux."

Patrice paled the second he heard the final word Harry said.

"Non, ce n'est pas possible." The horrified whisper escaped from Patrice's lips. He was shaking his head, back and forth, and looked ill.

"'Arry, Papa? What is a 'orcrux?" Fleur asked the question that was on Apolline's lips, Harry could see neither of them comprehended the weight of what Harry had just dropped on their laps.

"An abomination, a desecration of magic, an unspeakable evil." Patrice said, just thinking about the topic was wrenching his normally pleasant features into a sour nauseated disposition. "He did it? You know this for certain?"

Harry nodded. "Two have been destroyed. Of this I am certain." Harry's eyes never left the Delacour Patriarch's.

"Ce n'est pas possible! Deux?! Non, je n'y crois pas!" Patrice furiously whispered.

"When a diary possesses a student and could take tangible form you can be pretty sure, especially when it was basilisk venom that destroyed it, and when a locket is positively identifying as having a human soul, there really isn't any other possibility. The fact we had an account of what it was, from an eye witness..."

"A 'uman soul in a locket? It's not possible." Fleur stated with certainty. While she had not understood it, it was clear Apolline was on the uptake. Her hand had flown to her mouth and now she sat back looking between Patrice and Harry as if all she wanted was to hear a denial of what she was understanding.

"You-Know-Who split his soul. He put a portion of it in his diary and another in Salazar Slytherin's long lost locket. Until all his horcruxes are destroyed, his spirit will be anchored to this world." Harry informed the young part veela of the knowledge she was unaware of.

"It is a most vile magic." Patrice informed his daughter, his voice's usual strength returned to it.

He shifted his gaze to Harry. "Please tell me they are the only ones."

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head.

"How- how many?" He stumbled asking Harry the question.

"Seven. Six horcruxes and himself."

Patrice stood up and pulled out his wand. The liquor cabinet opened, under the silent direction of his wand, and a bottle came out. He didn't even bother with a glass, the cork was magically removed and he brought it up to his lips, taking a heavy drink direct from the bottle.

Apolline leaned forward and took it from his grasp. Instead of admonishing her husband, she drank from it herself before wordlessly offering it back to him. Patrice gestured an offer for either of them to have some but Harry declined. Fleur tucked her head into Harry's chest and clung to him instead.

Harry assumed before the meeting that he would not discuss this further; instead, he'd drop the worst of it on them directly and leave it there. He reached into his pocket and withdrew more parchment. "This doesn't leave my line of sight and no copies are permitted." He handed it to Patrice.

The man sat down and Apolline leaned into him, so she could read it with him.

Harry had given them the deposition of Walden Macnair that Ivan Pavlov had procured.

"What is it?" Fleur asked, her head not coming off his chest.

"Walden Macnair, a Death Eater, was killed in retaliation for the Second Task. The reason I brought it, is that Macnair confirms the Dark Lord's powerbase isn't defunct. Most of his loyal followers are still out there and never stopped spreading their influence. If the man ever regains his body, he'll be in as good of a position as he'd left it, possibly even in a better one."

"'Ow bad is it?" Fleur asked, just asking for the basic understanding.

"Bad." Harry stated, summing up the position in a single succinct word.

Horace and Cyrus had explained it rather simply. The Light side had lost the last war. Only a miracle had saved them from the jaws of defeat. Instead of using their advantage, they'd capitulated and looked to rejoice in their victory. Riddle's forces were not destroyed, his financial backers had increased their estates and their advantageous numbers had swelled. Unless Bones is able to work a miracle within the Ministry, they have more holes than swiss cheese with as much resolve and strength as a flobber worm.

"The Dark Lord was on the cusp of victory. France was preparing for conflict, Fleur. While his forces have maintained or strengthened their positions, his opposition has weakened."

The room fell silent, the couple opposite Harry was still scrutinizing the papers they were given and Fleur was deep in thought. Harry let them think it over, it was a lot to drop on anyone.

"This is why you are training so hard?"

Harry gave him a grim smile. "I'm training my arse off, preparing for combat. Horace and Cyrus are doing what they can on the political and economic fronts."

Patrice took in his words, Harry saw he was processing everything. "The negotiations make more sense now. Some of the asks were perplexing, if one didn't know the other side was preparing for a conflict. Now I understand why Cyrus was bent on setting up imports of goods from France." Harry acknowledged the point with the dip of his chin.

Cyrus wanted to be able to start stockpiling supplies. Regular purchases from their own domestic economy would be found out. Importing them, discreetly, would allow them to keep it quiet. There were many terms of the agreement set with assisting the war effort in mind.

"Are these the major points?" The Delacour matriarch asked.

"Yes. If you are willing to participate, we can arrange a time to get together with Horace and Cyrus and answer questions." Harry stated, he doubted the hopeful undertone, that they'd not back away from him now, was kept out of it.

Fleur sat up, her eyes burned with an intensity that brought him back to the Forbidden Forest, the macabre sight of her that was permanently etched into his memory. "I won't abandon you 'arry. I'll be at your side through it all."

Harry blinked heavily, the air was hard to breathe, his throat was constricting on him. He couldn't respond to her declaration.

She would be there, she'd stood tall in the forest, a vehement veela refusing to be overwhelmed by her enemies. She was so glorious. Why did she ever chose him?

The moment between them was broken by Patrice and Apolline Delacour. The two were standing.

"While we need time to process this, you can rest assured that House Delacour will stand with House Potter. Your grandfather stood with us in the time of our greatest peril and we will be with you through yours, marriage contract or no marriage contract."

While her parents were speaking, Fleur had pulled Harry to his feet. Apolline had stepped around the table that had been separating them, while her husband spoke, and wrapped the two of them in a hug.

Patrice, when he finished speaking, came over and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "We'll be 'ere for you 'arry, supporting you through this."

Harry heard Apolline's words but his throat was choked up and his eyes were silently leaking. He'd hoped for this, longed for this, and he hadn't even allowed his dreams to expect this type of response. This overwhelmed him, a weight coming off his shoulders, his burdens being carried by others as well.

He couldn't help but feel a major victory had been won tonight, a devastating blow delivered to their enemy. The Dealcours were in the know and would be joining his cause.

The realization, this whole scene, unraveled him but he couldn't be happier. Fleur was pressed against him, Apolline hugged them both, and he could feel Patrice's strong grip on his shoulder. Maybe this is what family was supposed to feel like. If it was, it was the greatest feeling he could think of. Unconditional support and a loving embrace.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN
> 
> Another one bites the dust. It's nice to get a regular update done. Thanks to Nauze for the excellent and super quick beta work, even through the holidays!
> 
> Thanks for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks. Discord has been fun, f you wished to join that here it is: discord.gg/KCkSTUn
> 
> Happy Holidays to everyone and have a wonderful New Years.
> 
> No update until next year.


	34. Of Dreams and Cuddles

Butterbeer, the perfect drink after a morning like the one Harry had had. Viktor might not mind the morning's cool Scottish wintery air but Harry wasn't a big fan, especially when Wood hadn't been there forcing them to fly in all types of inclement weather all year!

It had only taken a single drill for Harry to realize how outclassed he was. Harry might have the talent to play against Krum, possibly even equal or surpass him, but he'd not put in the thousands of hours required to be what Krum was, a true master of his craft. Cedric had recounted it rather quickly, 'He's a professional and we are amateurs", and that was all that really had to be said about their gap in skill.

With Cho joining Cedric in the air, an hour into flying, Harry's teammates had joined in too, Fred and George having a knack to know everything that was going on. Harry had called it quits after the second hour of flying around as they were all venturing into Hogsmeade together. A warm Butterbeer was the antidote he needed after flying around in cool temperature.

Harry took another sip and scrunched his nose, today was weird. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, something previously so mundane with it's true value in breaking up the monotony of school with an escape from the castle. It should have felt like he was falling into the natural rhythm, like all the previous weekends he'd attended. Yet, it didn't, it couldn't, not without Ron and Hermione.

It was five days past Ron's birthday and he hadn't bothered to get him anything, not even send an owl, as Ron and he had cut all contact. The times Harry had sat at the Gryffindor table, in the Great Hall, he'd just spent the time with his quidditch teammates. Harry wasn't sure he felt like working hard to rebuild that friendship and Ron hadn't made an attempt to bridge the chasm. He wouldn't be attending a Hogsmeade trip with Ron and that felt weird, especially without Hermione there as well.

Hermione… her situation was… _strange_. She had transferred to Ilvermorny in the colonies. Her parents had sold their dental practice, for a sum that was generous and beyond fair market price. Their qualifications had passed seamlessly into the United States, _too _seamlessly. The situation was something he had asked Patrice Delacour to investigate, shortly after he had learned about it. Harry assumed, given that the man had files on him, and received intelligence on a multitude of things, he should be able to have a muggleborn's change in situation figured out.

The man had delivered on the request, and boy, did he ever.

Harry had been invited to retire at the Delacour home for the night, after dinner. He'd declined, as training in the Chamber was too important and, further, he had plans for the following day. If he'd stayed there he'd have eaten breakfast and not have gotten his training in before meeting with Krum and Diggory at the pitch. Though, after reading the file, he may as well have stayed as he couldn't get the information out of his head after going through it. His morning training had been off, he'd not been focused, his mind trying to make sense of what he'd read.

There had been detailed information with some obvious conclusions to be taken from it. Her parents were given a financial incentive, they sold their practice at a high price and bought a more lucrative practice in the United States, that just so happened to be close to Ilvermony, at a lesser price. The set of circumstances was too neat, too tidy and too lucrative for them to turn down. That it came right when Harry and Hermione were on the outs was downright incriminating. The file was a literal smoking gun, the evidence all arranged before him. All that was missing was, who had set this up?

And therein laid the conundrum: Who did it? Why and to what end?

What could he do about it? _Should _he even do something about it?

Hermione couldn't be owled, she had a mail block up, and he wasn't sure contacting her parents by muggle means would work. The whole situation reeked of outside interference. Who had gotten Hermione out of the country and why had they done it?

What was he going to do about it?

The answer for that, right now, was simple. He wasn't going to do anything about it. It had been on his mind all morning, even as he was flying with Cedric and Viktor. By the looks of it, he'd spent too long on his thoughts and had missed something.

"Sorry, was just thinking about something."

"Like the only missing champion?" Cedric teased. Fleur would have been invited to join them in Hogsmeade today, but she was staying with her family for the rest of the weekend. Gabrielle was doing great and Harry had allowed Cuddles to stay with her, in an effort to keep her progressing through the weekend. He had a feeling that that offer bought him a whole lot of goodwill.

"Which one?" Fred asked, a mischievous grin on his face, matching the look George was sporting.

"The one that's got gorgeous silver hair and calls him '_arry_?" Katie acted out dramatically, as if she was trying to figure out who was missing.

Harry couldn't recall which one of the chaser trio was supposed to invite Fleur to come along today, he thought it might have been Katie but he wasn't sure..

"Is that the one with the big," George started saying and then cupped non-existent mounds on his chest, letting his actions finish his thought.

Alicia smacked him immediately, as soon as she'd seen what he was insinuating, being the closest female to him. "Stop being such a bloody wanker." She told him, threatening to hit him again if his hands didn't lower.

Harry's face had gained a red tinge and he tried _not_ to think of his amazing welcome to her room from Fleur yesterday, not the he had a snowball's chance in hell to not think about that, now that George had brought it up.

"So have you moved past kissing yet Harry?" Alicia asked, her voice full of mirth.

"Hey! This isn't pick-on-Harry day!" Harry exclaimed, doing his best to not look like a ripe tomato as he answered. "I'm not talking about my love life!"

"Oh, so it is love then?" Katie was grinning at him unrepentantly.

Harry shook his head exaggeratedly "I'm not talking about Fleur." He said resolutely.

"But she's not here and we only see you in the Great Hall. When else can we get the inside scoop?" Angelina asked, a wicked smile and a salacious wink being directed at him.

"Nope, nope, nope, not talking about Fleur." Harry wouldn't budge, he knew anything he said would get right back to her. Somehow, Fleur had bonded with the three girls and the chaser trio enjoyed riling Harry up as if they were his big sisters and it was their job to tease him.

Harry stared at his drink and kept his hands on it, the warmth felt wonderful after flying around in the cold all morning.

"How did the Pavlovs take it?"

Harry looked at Krum, his eyes squinting in confusion, "Take what?"

"You went on dates with Natalia Pavlova and now you are dating Fleur?" Cedric half asked and half stated, answering for Krum, who gave a quick nod confirming Cedric was correct.

"So... how did that go?" The Hufflepuff's girlfriend, Cho, prompted Harry to answer Viktor's question again and Harry shot her an irritated look.

"It… didn't?" Harry wasn't really sure how to answer that. He never was actually dating Natalia and technically he wasn't dating Fleur.

"I thought you were dating Fleur now? You were _really_ close in the medical tent." Cedric was affably polite, when asking the question, while Krum had a surly frown on his face, Harry didn't think it was much beyond his normal unsociable look.

Harry sat back and ran his hand through his hair. "It's complicated?" Really, how was he going to explain the mess he was in there or what was going on when he himself had no idea. Further, how much should, or should he not, say.

Cedric gave him an unimpressed look while Krum swirled his firewhiskey before taking a sip of it. The rest were looking on, fascinated, more than one was chomping at the bit to ask him something, barely holding back.

Harry looked down at his butterbeer and then took a sip of his own, holding the mug in the palm of his hand and leaving it on the glass, when he put it back on the table.

"Natalia and I were never dating. We went on some dates but nothing was ever _official_. Fleur and I… I can't talk about everything there…"

Krum shook his head. "Dangerous game you play… Don't vant to be next Walton Macdair."

Cedric blinked in surprise. "You mean Walden Mcnair? What does that have to do with anything? He's missing," seeing the sheepish look on Harry's face, and Krum's 'I hope you don't believe that' look, he inquired further, "isn't he?"

"Look, I don't _know_ anything, not for sure anyway..." Harry trailed off and looked around the room to make sure they understood what he was saying. "All I'm saying is that a betting man would wager on him never reappearing."

Krum snorted. "Dead." He succinctly said, pointing out what Harry had said without being blunt and just straight up saying it.

"Dead?" Cedric choked on his drink. "How?! Why?! How do you both know this?" His head was darting back and forth looking at his two fellow champions and he wasn't the only one that looked a little green.

"They hurt a Pavlov." Krum said with a shrug. The way he casually spoke made it clear that his sentence was more than enough of an explanation.

Cedric looked to Harry for him to interpret the Durmstrang's statement and Harry could see everyone else was looking at him as well. "The hostages were tortured, they were paralyzed physically but were awake for everything." Harry wasn't sure if that was a well known thing or not. He turned his eyes to Cho. Harry wasn't the only one looking at her, many others with varying degrees of horror and pity.

"The Pavlov family is known for being... vengeful... to those that wrong them. Putting Natalia through that was going to have a... reprisal." Harry wouldn't have imagined discussing anything like this so openly but Krum had brought it up. It appeared everyone with the Durmstrang contingent may have been expecting it.

"But weren't the professors who died the only ones responsible?" Katie asked, her usual exuberance diminished.

"Partially… Professor Moody was being impersonated by Barty Crouch Junior, an escaped Death Eater, and between the Death Eater attack at the World Cup attack and this... I think they put two and two together." Harry hedged his hypothesis, he knew much more than that but he wasn't going to be admitting that so brazenly.

Harry had wondered if there was going to be a reaction to his revelation of Crouch Jr but it appeared everyone was already aware of it.

"But why McNair? He had nothing to do with the tournament." Cedric wasn't the only person with that question on their lips, Harry could see. Some of them had never dealt with anything like this before, they lived in a peaceful Wizarding World where the biggest worries were quidditch, money, grades and romantic entanglements.

Krum snorted again. "He was marked, like Karkaroff. Once Death Eater, always Death Eater."

Harry was amused that Krum had it all understood and Cedric was failing to do so, they were like polar opposites. Krum, the Bulgarian who understood the way things went in these kinds of situations and shrugging them off like it was an everyday occurrence, whereas Cedric had a far more sheltered understanding of the world, one Harry had been forcefully disillusioned of, for many years now.

"Cedric," Harry said, getting the older boy's attention before he could question Krum further, "Viktor is saying the Pavlov's believe it was the Death Eaters that caused it and they took their pound of flesh for harming their daughter. By doing it, they sent a message, one that won't be ignored." Harry willed the Hufflepuff to understand through his eyes.

"Good riddance." Fred said firmly.

"He was a git!" George added onto his brother's statement.

"My dad has never liked him." Alicia added in.

Harry was surprised at how accepting the Gryffindors were. Though, if the twins had told them what happened to Ginny, or their parents had educated them on what the Death Eaters had done during the war, then it would make sense.

"B-bu-but…" Cedric's eyes were as wide as saucers as he looked between Harry, a disinterested Viktor, and the rest who spoke out in favor of it, "but, he worked for the Ministry! They're bound to investigate! They won't just let this go." His voice laced with disbelief and confusion, his jaw remained unhinged.

"He has the mark, he disappears, investigation has no leads, the end. Simple, it's how it goes." If it wasn't such a serious topic Harry would be laughing. Viktor came from a totally different culture, that was exactly how it worked in Bulgaria, Horace had already told him as much.

"No it isn't! People don't just get away with murder!" Cedric vehemently disagreed.

Harry shook his head, he wasn't sure he wanted to get into this any further.

"Why doesn't this bother you Harry?! How can you be so blase about it?" Cedric demanded to know.

Harry gave him a withering look but didn't respond verbally.

Cedric wasn't letting up though, "If you know something, you've got to go to the DMLE!" He looked at Krum next "Both of you!" When neither of the other champions responded, he stood.

Before he could even move his feet, Krum's arm snapped out and his hand gripped Cedric's wrist. Diggory went to pull his arm away but it was if it was caught in a vise. Though the Hogwarts Champion had a good size on Krum, the professional quidditch player was stocky and strong. With a single tug, Cedric found his arse planted back in his seat.

"If you vant to die for snitching, walk out the door and tell them. If you want your loving family, your pretty girlfriend," he nodded at Cho, "or yourself to die, then walk away. If not, _sit_!" There was no playfulness or warmth in Krum's tone. The intensity he showed was overwhelming, his words were deadly serious.

Cedric stayed still, sitting silently. Cho raised her arm and interlocked her fingers with her boyfriend.

"Ced, it's not how things are here…" she started out gently, "but it is how it is in many other wizarding nations, China included."

"Do _not _get involved, none of you," Harry added looking around at his teammates and Cho, "there is more going on here than meets the eye.." Harry said quietly, breaking the short silence that had started after Cho had settled Cedric down.

"Does this really have anything to do with Crouch Jr and the tournament?" Cedric asked, his eyes narrowed, and finally starting to comprehend the situation.

Harry shrugged, "There's been attempts on my life, multiple times now. I grew up hidden away for safety. We were almost all killed in the Second Task. Karkaroff, Bagman and Crouch Sr are all dead because of that mess…" Harry let his words wash over everyone, drinking more of his butterbeer before continuing. "McNair going missing was retaliation for the torture of Natalia, all the other hostages too, I suppose." He rubbed his chin as he added that. "A message to his compatriots, touch a Pavlov and one of you dies."

"All of Durmstrang knew. Karkaroff was dead man, if vow hadn't already killed him." Krum tipped his glass all the way back, the remaining firewhiskey sliding out into his mouth, a single gulp swallowed the contents.

"What kind of family are you associating with, Harry?" Angelina asked, it was plain as day that she was concerned by what she'd heard.

Harry shrugged, "An interesting one."

Krum gave a humorless chuckle. When Harry looked over at him he could tell Viktor wasn't going to say anything.

"You know what you are getting into, Harrykins?" Fred asked, trying to interject some levity while also being serious with his question.

"Horace has told me quite a lot about them. I have a fair idea of what I'm mixed up with, yes." Harry smiled back after his response, it didn't reach his eyes, however.

"You are braver man than I… Brave or foolish that is. I'd not risk dating Natalia." Krum shook his head at the thought before he looked down at his empty drink, a forlorn expression flashed across his face.

"And Harry, you didn't tell us how that went, with Natalia, and what Cedric meant about you being '_very _close' with Fleur after the Second Task..." Katie pressed him as she leaned forward, eager to know how that went down.

"I said it didn't. I'll be seeing Natalia after this, though." How the whole group got onto this after they had spent most of their time here talking quidditch, school and the tournament, Harry had no idea.

"Notice, dear brother, how he didn't mention _anything_ about how close he is to the resident silver haired goddess reborn?" George said, mischief coloring his voice, and a roguish smirk that Harry knew meant this first comment was the setup for his twin.

"I have it on good authority that he's been into the Beauxbatons carriage, asking to visit the only missing champion in her _private_ room, you know, the one without _any su-per-vision_. Mind telling us just how close you got to her behind closed doors, Harrykins?" Fred pushed the button that made Harry blush crimson, he couldn't help but picture how Fleur had answered the door the last time he went there… Merlin… was she ever Gorgeous, capital 'G' included.

Harry stared down at the end of his Butterbeer, his nearly empty glass a clear sign he should be getting on pretty soon. They'd been here for quite some time afterall, a couple hours at the least.

Sometimes Harry wondered if Ron and Ginny were as they were because of the mental trauma that must have been inflicted upon them growing up as the younger siblings of the twins. They're wonderful people but they had no scruples for pushing people's buttons.

"Cedric told me Fleur and Harry shared a hospital bed and talked behind a privacy bubble. They kissed and have been rather cosy since." Cho smirked at Harry, Cedric looked resigned and sorry that his girlfriend had just blurted that out, that it was meant to be told to her in confidence.

Katie rolled her eyes. "We already knew that." She said dismissively, with a wave of her hand, "Fleur sits with us when Harry's not around, she's even studied with us. We already knew that they kiss. I thought it would be something more like... professing their undying love to one another or something." She sighed theatrically and covered her heart with her hand, feigning a swoon. "But, alas, no such confirmation."

Fred and George were snickering and Katie's fellow chasers were both giggling with her.

Harry just rolled his eyes. "I'm glad you guys get along with Fleur so well but I'm a gentleman and gentlemen doesn't kiss and tell."

"That makes no sense." Alicia said after a moment pondering Harry's words. "By saying that, you are pretty well admitting that you kissed her, therefore, telling us!"

Harry quirked his head to the right and looked toward the ceiling. Heh, he totally kind of did tell them.

Harry picked up his empty cup. "Well, that's my cue, I'm going for another round." Harry said abruptly, standing quickly.

"Don't you have a girl to see?" Fred asked, eyebrows waggling, in a teasing tone.

"Fleur's a great first choice but Natalia's quite the specimen too, Harry you ladykiller!" Harry didn't need to retort to Fred's second comment, Angelina took care of it for him.

Just as the words finished exiting George's mouth Angelina wailed on his chest with her first.

"Ow woman! What's that for?!" He exclaimed, his hand rubbing his chest.

"Stop being such a prat to Harry." She chided as she stood, Harry wasn't the only making a departure now.

Everyone but he and Viktor had wanted to go out and get some actual shopping done. Harry still had some time to kill and Krum decided on getting another ground, sitting around in a private room, not being bothered by anyone seemed agreeable to him.

Harry could tell though, when he returned with the drinks, that Krum wanted to talk to him about serious things. The Durmstrang Champion had never been totally casual, even as they sat around talking quidditch, there was always an air of cautiousness, or perhaps, grimness. Like there was some sort of wariness that he refused to let go of around others, or in public, Harry didn't know which it was, he hadn't been this way in the Medical Tent after the Second Task.

"Brothers In Arms, I trust you know it now?"

Harry nodded, it was a magical pledge given to one deemed to have earned it. It was an old custom, one that has been used since magical records began. Brothers In Arms is the more common term but it's more of a way of satisfying a magical debt. The pledge is not accepted if there is not some form of agreeance by magic. How exactly it worked, was up for debate.

There wasn't a consensus, the two prevailing theories were that magic had a way of sensing the will and intent between the two, whether it was genuine or not. While the other main postulation was that magic itself accepted or rejected the claims, it had a way of knowing if a magical debt was owed or not. This, Harry had learned, was the basis for the belief that one must repay life-debts, letting them linger was unacceptable to magic and would eventually have a cost come due.

Harry slowly nodded as he placed Viktor's drink in front of him, before he himself sat down beside him, a comfortable gap between them as they sat on the same side of the large table meant for far more than just two people.

"What are you going to do about the Death Eaters?" Krum asked as he grasped his new drink. He slowly swirled the liquid, watching it, awaiting Harry's reply.

Harry withdrew his wand and recast his privacy charms, he wasn't taking any chances.

"I'm not sure yet," he frowned, giving a visible reaction to the tangible annoyance in his voice. "I've been gathering allies and getting a plan together." Harry had a degree of trust in the older boy, his gut told him that Viktor was a straight shooter, what you see is what you get, there was no duplicitousness to him.

"You're going to fight, though? If they've tried a few times, they won't stop." The simplicity of the statement almost threw Harry off. He shouldn't have been so surprised after how calmly he took the Pavlov family's retaliation… but calm acceptance of violence wasn't something he was adjusted to expect.

"I will… if it's necessary. I'm hoping Madame Bones will get the MInistry in order and do the bulk of the work." Harry said. With Bones heading up the Ministry of Magic, there was no way she'd just look the other way. Her family had been killed in the war, leaving just her and Susan as the only two remaining in the family.

Krum shook his head. "Ministers always in the business of staying in power. Today they will be best friend but in the future… No. If they get anything on you they will extort you for it later. If you become a media pariah, they will turn on you. It's how it works." Krum's stony visage hadn't faltered, he'd been entirely serious, frowning at Harry's last comment.

Harry watched him swirl his drink again, wondering if that was half the reason people drank hard alcohol, so they'd have something to play with while they took care of tedious things.

Harry leaned back into his seat, allowing things to be quiet between them. He wanted to consider Viktor's words. Krum was only seventeen and he was already at the very height of his profession. He'd been savvy with the media, never any missteps, only distance and a gloomy roughness in his interaction with them. He was never not polite, he just kept up a wall of answers that were limintingly blunt.

Krum's point was a rather cynical one, however his views had more merit than Harry thought at first. If Bones was ever removed from office, anything in their records would become vulnerable. If they helped him with anything, it would more than likely be logged, recorded, and easily accessible. He'd had such strict protections on information control, that to work with the Ministry, which was thoroughly compromised, made it seem irrational to even consider at all.

"It does seem foolish to trust the Ministry… now that you mention it…" Harry's face was scrunched, his lips thinned. He'd been hoping an improved Ministry would take some pressure off of him.

"How do the Pavlov's operate outside it? From what I've learned, they are involved in most everything in Bulgaria, Russia and Germany. Their reach is long, their pockets deep, and they are well connected."

"Unbreakable Vows." Krum told him stoically, "Vow protects from veritaserum and oaths. They have anyone associated with them under layers of Unbreakable Vows, for loyalty, secrecy, for not competing…

Harry looked at him skeptically, an eyebrow raised with his upper lip curled, "How does that work?"

"Like all magic, stronger magic wins."

"Right." Harry said, not having thought of applying that general principle to oaths, vows and potions. He knew that a spell that is stronger than a shield will crash right through it, likewise, the converse was true, a stronger shield will hold out to a weaker spell, as a general principle, with exceptions, of course.

"So the Unbreakable Vow overpowers magical oaths and the truth serum?" Harry asked, wanting to have gain a clear understanding.

"Da." Viktor succinctly confirmed before lifting the glass to his lips and tipping it up, letting the amber liquid descend into his mouth, allowing a decently sized sip to fall between his lips.

"So once they vow to not give up their secrets, those who could turn them in, _can't_." Harry summarized the basic idea, looking to Krum to get affirmation.

Krum grimaced, "Yes, but once you join, there's no way out. They own you. They tangle you up in vows, getting dirt on you and their side always has loopholes."

"Ah." Harry had already seen a mild version of that. The marriage contract Natalia had given him would have locked him in without any real concessions come to him, just the benefit of joining their family.

"So why McNair?" Krum asked after a moment of quiet, sitting back in his seat, leaving his glass sitting on the table, out of his reach.

"Eh? What do you mean why him, didn't I cover that earlier?" Harry wasn't sure what he was asking, they were all told it was because the man was a Death Eater.

"No," the elder young man disagreed, "they pick targets well. It was him for reason." Krums sharp eyes caught Harry's.

Harry fidgeted, his fingers playing with his mug, he lifted, then dropped, one finger after another, starting with his pinky and ending with his forefinger before repeating the action in reverse order repetitively.

"I'm… not sure I should say…" Harry didn't want to insult him, by outright proclaiming he didn't trust him with the information, but he wasn't willing to possibly compromise information.

Krum got an annoyed look on his face. "Brothers In Arms means I _can't_ betray your trust, I can't act against you. I forfeit my magic if I do either. Until my debt is repaid, you will hold a part of my magic."

Harry turned his wrist over and pulled up his sleeve. "That's why I have these marks?" Harry's eyes dropped to the inside of his wrist. Just below where his hand began was a thin outline of a sword crossed with a broom. It was faint, not noticeable unless you were looking for it or if Harry channeled magic to it.

Krum pulled out his right arm and showed off the same mark. "It stays until it's repaid."

Did Harry just take that at face value? He'd gotten a brief overview on it from Fleur but it had kind of slipped his mind. Overlooking it was not looking like such a bright thing to do now…

"Macnair was a soft target, easy to get to. He worked at the Ministry and investigated animal disturbances. It wouldn't have been hard to get him isolated." Harry said, running his hand along the back of his neck. "He wasn't an inner circle member... But, he was knowledgeable of their operations. He knew enough to get credible and valuable information while also not taking a run at the truly dangerous ones. He's a loss, to them, but nobody is going to miss him. It shows resolve while not unnecessarily antagonizing them."

He'd talked this through with his advisors, they explained to him that Macnair wasn't a target of opportunity. They were making a statement, one that had been well thought out and calculated to bring about a favorable result.

Krum nodded, not responding to what Harry had said. His mouth pursed and the corners of his eyes tightened. "Be careful with them. If they have Natalia involved with you, there is an angle. Remember they have vows to be loyal to their family first and foremost."

Harry sighed and then took a drink from his mug. "I might need them. If I can't trust the Ministry who else can I side with? I've got a few allies now but these aren't school kids opposing me. They are business owners, whole families, politicians and men without conscience."

Krum dipped his chin. "You may need them. They can work from the shadows as well as anyone. They aren't well connected here but an association with you and your allies would fix that. Their connections on the continent could be worthwhile."

Cyrus was cautiously for an association with the family while Horace was less in favor. Harry thought the difference more than likely stemmed from the difference in what they had to lose. Horace, a single man without children, and Cyrus, a family man with two daughters and a wife. One had far more to risk than the other.

Krum stood and picked up his glass, saluting Harry with it, he then threw his head back and downed the rest of the contents, slamming the now empty glass back on the table. "You've got my wand, just let me know when and where." He took three steps towards the door but stopped with his hand on the knob.

Viktor turned his head back, looking at Harry over his shoulder, saying one final thing before departing. "Once you get into bed with a Pavlov, you don't get out. Make sure it's a mutual fucking, nothing worse than finding out you're the one being buggered in the relationship."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry arrived to familiar surroundings, he'd spent a lot of time here but none recently. He moved closer to the entry to the dance studio. He leaned against the wall, crossing one foot over the other and saw Lacroix in the position she was always perched in.

He didn't need to follow her gaze to see the person he was meeting today. The ballerina was gracefully moving, flowing from one move to the next. Her slender figure elegantly practicing her routine, long slender legs, pointed toes, swooping arms and a gracile neck. This was Natalia Pavlova, the brown haired beauty he'd come to see.

He drew a deep breath in, her soft blue eyes hadn't noticed him yet, her concentration was absolute, entirely focused on perfecting her routine. Her arms flowed beautifully from position to position, her legs dexterously moved synchronically with her body.

Every time he watched her dance, he was mesmerized, how couldn't he be, with the way she glided around with perfect precision? She was virtually floating around the room and Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from her lovely form. She was as gorgeous as always, her classical elegance never failed to shine through.

He continued watching until Lacroix gave some instructions for Natalia and moved directly toward Harry. She exited the studio and walked up to him, "Hello Harry, I didn't realize you would be coming today."

"Natalia said she was training today and would be free afterwards. I thought I'd drop in, I hope you don't mind." He gave her a mischievous smile.

"You can drop by anytime you'd like. I was missing our discussions. I'd become so accustomed to your presence, though I'll admit, at first, I was relieved when the commitment ended." Her stern demeanor cracked for a fraction of a second.

"It's good to see you too, Madame." He grinned back at her, even admitting she'd missed his presence was more than he'd expected.

"Are you and Natalia?" She the question lingered, they both knew what she was asking.

Harry ran his hand through his hair, "I don't know…" He said, frustration evident in his voice. "It's complicated..."

"Life often is, Harry… life often is."

Harry nodded, he'd really been learning that. Both of their eyes drifted back toward the sole other occupant in the studio. Natalia was standing, holding one hand on the bar and doing a repetitive motion, over and over again.

"She's going to be great, you know." Lacroix said, her eyes not leaving her pupil. "So few are so dedicated to their craft. The Krum boy you compete against, he's like her." Pride was radiating off of the woman, pride in her tutelage and in her student.

"Viktor Krum is _the_ best Seeker in Quidditch. I flew against him this morning and he's incredible. I haven't failed to catch a snitch since I joined Hogwarts, without outside interference, and he made me look the rank amateur I am, even on an older broom model." The admiration for the skill Krum had shown was plain for her to hear.

"Yes, as I said, he's dedicated and skilled. Natalia is as dedicated as he is and she's as skilled as they come. Not every profession can peak at seventeen, besides she's still only fifteen, she'll be starring in productions soon."

Harry was taken aback by her casual dismissal of his argument. Krum was a true prodigy, nobody plays professionally at seventeen, let alone carrying a team to the Quidditch World Cup Final. To so casually compare the two meant she either did not comprehend his accomplishments or she thought incredibly highly of Natalia as a ballerina.

Harry wasn't really sure how to respond, so he did not. Lacroix had always been well informed; and thus, he took her meaning to be the latter one, though not without some doubt. The two silently watched Natalia complete all her exercises.

It wasn't until she began stretching out that Lacroix spoke up again. "I'm sure you're aware by now that I was pressured into having Natalia be your dance partner."

"Yes." Harry said, not sure where this was leading.

"They had no leverage, I hope you realized that." She stated, "In fact, pairing you together creates a greater downside for me than anything else."

"Oh?" Harry was intrigued now, though still obviously skeptical.

"We have a generational contract, one that, as long as the terms are adhered to, will continue, generation after generation."

Harry hadn't really looked into it. Cyrus had told him there were indeed payments to the Academy but it wasn't something he could do anything about, as the regent, and the amount was not significant to the total holdings.

"Okay…" He didn't see where this was going exactly.

"One of the terms to escape is the disolvation of relations between the families. Meaning, if things were to degrade to a state of enmity, the clause could possibly be used." Her hands were clasped behind her back but she had turned to him, giving Harry her full attention, as she informed him.

"You told me that Natalia and I could be a good match if the politics didn't get in the way. Did you really mean that?" While Harry did want to hear the answer, he knew he was terrible at reading this woman, she was so well put together and her countenance almost never broke.

"If Natalia was my granddaughter I'd choose you for her. And if you were my grandson I'd choose her for you." She looked totally serious, entirely genuine, as she spoke.

"What? Why? What makes us such a good match?" Harry didn't understand. Sure, they hit it off, but he was never really sure that _was_ Natalia. There was so much manipulation early on that he had no idea what part of her was real.

"A number of things actually. First of all your temperaments match well. In private you are more outgoing and forceful, in public subdued and prefer to stay out of the limelight. Whereas Natalia is the opposite, she grows quiet in more intimate settings, unless she's agitated, and plays the outgoing extravert perfectly when in a gathering."

Harry took in the words and quickly considered them. It was interesting to hear her perspective on Natalia, she would have known her since she was a child and her take would be more accurate, assuming she was being truthful, not manipulating him to be with her prized student. Harry wondered if she made use of his fame to vaunt her student into the spotlight, to use it to help her Academy and Lacroix's best student's career.

"Beyond that, you both have that spark. Neither of you will settle to be ordinary. You are both extraordinary. You are both going to achieve great things, provided nothing stops your from reaching the zenith of your careers, that is."

Heh, she had no idea just how far Harry wanted to go in his use of magic. Seeing first hand what Grindelwald had done had inspired him. He wanted to get to that level of mastery magic. What he did with his magic was something Harry hoped he'd never pursue but the sheer skill and power? It filled him with awe and inspired his own pursuits, not that he was trying to emulate Grindelwald's style.

"I think she's a really sweet girl at heart. You're good for her and I believe she's good for you too." Lacroix seemed to teeter between revealing more, saying more, or not. The internal argument ended with her explaining further.

"She could have been a princess. With her name and pedigree, she could have achieved decent marks and then been married off to a rich family and coasted through life. But she didn't settle for that."

That was an interesting point for Harry to consider. Natalia hadn't taken the easy road in life. In fact, the three most readily pursuable romantic options were all driven. Fleur could have just used her looks and her name. Daphne could use her family connections and good looks to live a comfortable family life, staying completely out of the war. But, neither of them had.

Lacroix continued, unaware of Harry's internal thoughts, "Instead, day after day, she comes here, early, to train, I've had to give her access key to get in as she regularly is here before me, training on her own, that's how dedicated she is." Lacroix took a half step forward.

"But it's more than just her work here. Natalia has been completing her education while missing many of her classes. She's been as much self taught as she has been given direction, while still achieving good grades. She's done it without the support of her parents, her family, she spends countless hours honing her abilities when she could be living a wealthy, comfortable life instead, vacationing and living an easy life of luxury." Some passion had leaked into her voice, she was as defensive of her student as she was as proud of her.

"Then I see you, not so dissimilar to her. Showing up here day after day to perfect something where merely being passable would have been sufficient. You were dedicated, striving to do more than just what is required. I know how you helped her, I know just how impressive your grades were, how quickly you've been maturing. You're no longer someone who will just coast by. You won't use your fame and inheritances to vacation and live a life of luxury, will you?" She challenged him on this point, eliciting a response from Harry.

"No." He admitted as much, knowing full well he had far greater ambitions in life than to get an estate home, raise a family and enjoy the fruits of other people's labors.

"Natalia is driven like you. She won't be a stay at home mom that is content with just raising a family. She'll want to do that, have children, but at the appropriate time, after she's matured more. Girls, dancers," she clarified, "often don't want children at her age, they want the flashy career, they want to achieve their singularly focused goal. But, as they mature, as their careers start peaking they realize how much _more_ their life could be. How fulfilling it can be to have and raise children."

Harry's free hand came up and his fingers rubbed along his chin and jawbone, one side of his face was quirked up, as he considered her words.

"Without all the politics, without family complications, I see you two as a wonderful match… I first saw it in how you two danced, so beautifully, together. Many partners would kill to be as in sync as you two were. But, I digress, it was cemented to me when I saw you help Natalia with her schoolwork. You two just click, you work together so seamlessly. You match up so well. But, I know all too well how egregious politics can be, how they can ruin the best of things."

"Yeah. You don't need to tell me twice.." Harry muttered, thinking of all the political issues he had, or would have, in the near future.

"You're young. You've got time to figure these out. For both of your sakes, I hope you give each other a chance… When it's just the two of you together, you're so carefree, you're just yourselves. That's good for you, it's a special thing…" She let her words let off, with a far away look to her.

As if a sudden thought had jolted her, Madame Lacroix stepped back, straightened her posture and lifted her chin. "But what do I know. Just the thoughts of an old dance instructor." She smiled at Harry, one that didn't reach any higher than her lips.

"It was good seeing you again Harry. Visit anytime." She said, as she dismissed herself from his presence and, after hearing Harry's parting words, she went to her office, leaving Harry to wait for Natalia by himself.

It only took a couple minutes for her to appear in tight jeans, and a thick pullover sweater, while her hair was let down loose, splaying down her back.

She looked tentative, nervous. Her head bowed, ever so slightly, and a bit of reluctance to meet his eyes.

"Hey Harry." She said quickly, in way of greeting.

"Hey yourself." He gave her a big smile and tried to interject some sincere happiness in his voice, to try and give her some confidence here.

"I- I didn't… uh… expect you to meet me here." Her follow up to his greeting was unconfident and timid.

They were standing quite far apart, for two people talking, three or four feet more than normal.

"I thought I'd drop in. I _love_ watching you dance; it's mesmerizing." Harry kept his jovial tone, especially emphasizing the one word.

A slight smile graced her lips. Harry couldn't help but think it made her look so cute, using her right hand to brush the hair back out of her face only added to the effect.

"Well," she brought up her eyes to meet his, "I had planned to go home and get changed, before meeting you, but if you're okay with this," she gestured toward herself, "I don't mind."

Harry nodded and stepped toward her, "I think you look great. Did we just want to go to the park or did you have something else in mind?"

"The park is fine." She said softly.

Harry closed the distance between them and held out his hand, offering to apparte the both of them. She reached out and tenderly placed her hand in his.

Harry transported the two of them to the familiar place. With nary a thought, their feet began to carry them toward the bench. It was a cool night, once again, but thankfully it wasn't precipitating, or it may have been too much be outside.

How long would she stay silent?

How many times could he count their steps, un, deux, trois?

Each passing second felt longer than the last.

He wasn't even holding her hand anymore, she had withdrawn it from his grasp when they'd arrive and she'd stuffed it into her pocket, not giving him an opportunity to take it again.

At this point, Harry's stubbornness wouldn't let him give in and break the silence, he was going to wait for her to speak.

It wasn't until they were seated on the bench together, with a conspicuous space between them, that she spoke up, breaking the lingering silence. "It's odd. You take me here, back to where it all began, and then you're the one to not talk. I was so nervous then." She scoffed, "But what does it matter…" She turned her head towards him, impatient, as if she was awaiting him to get on with something.

Harry stared back at her. The last thing they talked about was her offering herself to him. She wanted him to accept her or tell it wouldn't work and cut her loose. He'd done as she'd asked. He'd been thinking this over and giving it a lot of thought. How could he not?

He'd always like Natalia. If it was whether he found her attractive, got along with her, enjoyed her time with her and wanted to do more of it there wouldn't be any issues. Unfortunately, there was the politics, the manipulations and everything else that had occurred since they first met. How could he give her an answer when he wasn't even clear about things?

"Well? Are you going to do it?" She said, her voice strong and challenging.

"Do what? Make you give an Unbreakable Vow? Make a decision on whether to marry you or to set you loose?" Harry asked his triad of questions in rapid succession, not letting her tone bother him in the slightest.

"Argh! You're so frustrating!" She exclaimed and Harry thought she might do something but she just clenched her jaw and tried to bore a hole through his head with her intense stare.

After a moment she stood up. "I put myself out there! I laid it all out there and… and… argh!" Natalia stomped her feet as she stepped away, turning around in frustration.

Harry was glad he'd setup the usual privacy spells. She'd make quite a spectacle of them raising her voice so much.

"You waited _days_ before contacting me! Days!" She turned back toward him, her hands out of her pockets and clenched in tight fists at her sides. "And all you've got for me, after all that, is… nothing?!" She was almost shrieking at him now.

"What do you want me to say? That I still like you? That if I had a galleon for every time I've been warned about you and your family that I could pretty well retire already? That, _somehow_, through all of that I _still _want to pursue you?" Harry raised his voice a little. He wasn't going to yell at her but he wouldn't back down either. It wasn't exactly fair for her to throw this at him.

Natalia came back to the bench and sat down heavily against Harry.

"I"m sorry. I've just been on edge since I last saw you." She said, as her head rested on his shoulder.

"What made you do this though? Like, why would you put this on me?" He asked softly, unsure if he should wrap his arm around her or just leave the physical contact as is for now.

Natalia shifted, burrowing her head into him. "I just don't want to be strung along. I'm not sure I could handle it…"

"But isn't that how relationships work?" Harry half asked and half stated. "We try being together and if things workout we get married and if they don't we break up."

Natalia's far hand found its way into Harry's lap, it felt around, searching for Harry's hand. He brought one out of his pocket and let her hold onto his hand.

Natalia swallowed. "For most it does… for us? It kind of does for you but not for me…"

Harry dipped his chin and turned it toward her, his eyes focused on her.

"If we don't work out you move on, choosing to marry whomever you want."

Harry nodded slowly, that was true and accurate, though it didn't take into account the restarting of his families, nor the danger they were in of becoming extinct.

"But me?" She sighed, "Not for me. I can only marry someone my family approves of. And _trust_ me, the list is short and the candidates aren't appealing, they never have been." She said with disgust. "But then you, _literally,_ waltz into my life. You sweep me off my feet and just make me so happy." She stopped there for a moment and just cuddled into him while forming her thoughts into coherent words.

"My parents approved of you instantly. Getting you attached to the Pavlov family… The Potter name would help remove the stain from the last war. Getting allied with the Blacks, even as diminished as they are, would open up a part of the wizarding world they'd never have been able to breach as effortlessly."

"Do you mind if I ask about that?" Not hearing an immediate 'no' he went on. This was something he'd speculated on, with Cyrus and Horace, and he wanted to know more about it. "Why is that so vital to them? They have money, they have business acumen. Why is it so important?"

Natalia lifted her head off his shoulder and looked at him, Harry thought she was exasperated and resigned, resigned that she was going to answer but didn't really like the conversation being derailed at this junction.

"England is really insular, it always has been. Most of the first recruits to the English Dark Lord's followers were foreign purebloods, like the Malfoy, Rosier, Lestrange, and Dolohov for example. He also recruited the pureblood families that never amounted to much, the ones he could rile up easily, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Jugson, Yaxley and more."

"Been studying our recent history?" Harry asked with a knowing smirk.

Natalia ignored the comment. "It took time for his movement to begin and he often recruited the young heirs, the ones who would believe his rhetoric. Gaining the Blacks was pivotal, but that may have been more due to their arranged marriages with families already in the movement, Rosier and Lestrange, for example, as the Head of the family never openly supported them. Given that he named you the next Regent, we surmise he didn't support him but most of his family did, fanatically even."

"Okay… but what does this have to do with your family?" Harry asked, not wanting to get too far off topic, they were already off topic and didn't need to keep going further away.

She patted his leg and gave him a sweet smile. "Everything."

Harry huffed, playfully exaggerating his annoyance, and slipped an arm around her, giving her a squeeze.

"Most of the businesses haven't changed in centuries. Olivander sells wands and they won't let in foreign wand makers, like Gregorivitch. Diagon Alley changes very little and new entrants into the marketplace are viciously opposed. The war was started for as much of economic reasons as it was for blood purity- much of the discord that fed blood purity can be found in their lack of wealth and opportunities for creating it."

Harry thought about that as she quietly explained it to him. "That makes sense. If they were all rich and wealthy they'd be far less inclined to fight."

She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his arm, as she did so. "So for a foreign family like mine it's difficult to get anything going. By partnering with an established family they can ease their way in. With the backing of two families on the Wizengamot things change. I'd imagine your negotiations with the Delacours will have quite extensive negotiations on joint business ventures."

Harry couldn't say anything about it. He could feel his magic tightening even as he thought about replying. He was a party to a magical contract to keep it secret and he would.

"Sasha and Elena have nominal control of the family affairs in Bulgaria. Igor and Yulia are in Russia, Hans and Lea, Germany, and Maria is engaged to Klaus Ehrhoff and spends her time in Germany with him. Mother and Father oversee everything but they hope I will ensnare you. I expect Father will be heavily invested in opening up a new business frontier, if that is the case." She was telling him this plainly, little to no inflection in her voice.

"So where does that leave us?" Harry asked, faintly amused that he got to ask this question.

"I don't know…" She murmured into his arm. "I'm sorry for giving you an ultimatum. It's just-" she breathed out heavily and three her hands up, "it's just I want you and I get why we might not get a chance… I'd just rather end it now than letting the illusion of us being able to work out make it all the worse when things end." She wasn't looked at him while she apologized but not after she'd gotten frustrated.

"How are you able to speak more openly? I understand your family uses Unbreakable Vows…" Harry asked, changing the subject for the moment.

"The family one's aren't too onerous. I can't, say, tell you the specific wording... but it's broad and pretty simple. They are used negatively, like, I can't willfully act against the family in a way that would purposefully cause harm, that kind of thing." It had seemed the change of topic had brightened her up, perhaps she took it as a positive sign, that he was asking more about her family, Harry considered.

"How would an Unbreakable Vow of loyalty to me, or one to keep my secrets, work with that?" Harry frowned, he didn't like the idea of a loyalty oath. What kind of a relationship could they have if she was forced to be loyal to him.

Wasn't the basis of a good relationship trust? Having it artificially would wekan the base of the relationship, nothing without a shored up base lasted long. The old saying of building on rock instead of sand came to mind. Would it matter if the unstable sand was made to be stable by magic?

"They are all independent of each other. It's why you have to be very careful, especially with anything that can require positive actions. Imagine two oaths. One requires me to keep your secrets and the other requires me to keep my family's secrets. All I need to do is keep secrets, each oath holds me to its specific terms and there are no issues with that. But, if one was required action, if I had to tell my family anything that could benefit them to know, while I had also sworn to keep your secrets, I would have to keep both. As that's not possible I'd have to break one and suffer the consequences." She shuddered, thinking about that.

"I see. There is no combining them. Each oath acts independent of the other… That… makes sense." Harry pondered out loud.

"Do you want me to swear one?" She asked and then shifted away so she could get a better look, her eyes searching him over. "I will. I wasn't lying when I told you that."

"No… not one for blind loyalty…" Harry said slowly. The idea of using that as a basis for trust just felt wrong, it left a sour taste in his mouth. "Everyone close to me that knows my secrets does take a secrecy oath though." It was ironic that he was willing to accept one

"I don't mind. One to keep your secrets and a limited loyalty oath, something like I won't knowingly act against your interest."

Harry sighed. He really should accept that. It would remove the concern he had about whether she was manipulating him on her family's orders. He would check with Ackerly on the vows, how they worked in conjunction with each other and what he should get Natalia to swear.

For now, he was tired and ready to retire for the night. Working through his magical exercises, flying with Krum, spending a couple hours hanging out with friends, chatting with Krum, and now hanging out with Natalia…. It had been a packed day.

"Let's do that later. I"ll have my lawyer draft something." Harry felt her squirm against him. He was tired and knew he might miss something and they needed a bonder in any case.

"Will you dance with me Harry?" Natalia asked in a quiet hopeful voice.

"Here?" Harry asked, looking around at his surroundings. It wasn't an ideal place to dance.

"Yes."

Harry shrugged, "Sure, why not."

"I'll count the timing out loud, you just focus on not stepping on my feet." She smirked at him, fully knowing Harry was far too good for that issue.

Harry placed his hands on her and perfected his posture.

"Okay, un deux trois, un deux trois."

When the third repetition began he began to lead them.

"Un," He deftly put his left foot forward, focusing on the hip movement.

"Deux," Harry moved his right foot diagonally and began the rise to his toes.

"Trois," He completed the rise and slid his left foot over, moving the correct side of the chest up.

"Un," He began the opposite motions, Harry was working on completing the full box step motions.

"Deux," this was so comfortable.

"Trois," he closed his eyes, enjoying the way his body moved with hers.

"Un" Natalia… what a dance partner.

"Deux," he breathed in her scent.

"Trois," wasn't it lovely?

"Un," she's so superb.

"Deux," why couldn't things be as simple as dancing?

"Trois," it was so easy to move in time with her.

Harry was enjoying this far more than he'd thought. They weren't performing nor putting on a show for anyone. They were going through this practiced routine just for the pure enjoyment of it, just to do something enjoyable with her.

Hesitation Change, un deux trois un deux trois.

Fallaway Reverse Slip Pivot un deux et trois.

He understood what Lacroix said, they worked so well together.

Double Reverse Spin un deux trois et.

How great did she look with her lustrous brown hair twirling as he spun her?

Open Telemark un deux trois.

Chasse from Promenade Position un deux et trois.

She moved so flawlessly. How many hours did she practice to get this good?

Natural Spin Turn un deux trois un deux trois.

Turning Lock, left, to Promenade Position un et deux trois.

Chasse from Promenade Position un deux et trois.

What was he to do with her?

Hesitation Change, un deux trois un deux trois.

Fallaway Reverse Slip Pivot un deux et trois.

Enticing, elegant, and oh so silky smooth.

Double Reverse Spin un deux trois et.

Open Telemark un deux trois.

How could he just walk away from her?

Chasse from Promenade Position un deux et trois.

She was perfection personified: her arched back, pushed up chest, and long dextrous legs.

Natural Spin Turn un deux trois un deux trois.

Turning Lock, left, to Promenade Position un et deux trois.

How he wished this would never end…

Chasse from Promenade Position un deux et trois.

The two kept dancing to the silent tune, Natalia no longer needing to set the tempo. With their privacy charms, it was just the two of them in their own world. The park, their dance floor, the moon and stars, their lighting.

They kept at it until Harry stopped them, some minutes later, as he was yawning. Being tired and ready to collapse in his bed, he brought their activity to an end.

Natalia's blue eyes gazed up at him in question. "Harry?"

Harry moved his body forward and wrapped her up in a hug. "Sorry. I'd like to continue too but it's late and I'm tired." He murmured into her ear while using his right hand to run his hand through her hair.

"I loved tonight… loved being with you… I don't want to leave you tonight." She whispered in his ear, neither of them moving to break apart the hug.

"Sorry. I really need to go to bed though..." he sleepily said.

"I don't want to leave you tonight." She reiterated, her whispered voice a little louder, stronger now.

"You'll have to. I'm going to go to bed and your parents will be expecting you home tonight." Harry put his hands on her shoulders and slowly disengaged his body from here. His green eyes met her blue ones and he kept his hands on her shoulders but his arms were now straight, putting some distance between them while still remaining in contact.

"I told them I'm staying at the studio. I do it quite frequently…" She said in a small voice, her eyes not leaving his though.

Harry took a moment to comprehend what she was saying. When he did, he wanted to be clear, "You… want to stay with me... tonight? He asked slow and unsure.

Natalia nodded.

"I don't think we're ready for sex…" He stated bluntly. Was she trying to manipulate him again? Would he need to use Lucia's training tonight?

It was hard to tell with only the moon and stars as light but Harry was sure Natalia was crimson from blushing. "No! I meant just cuddle, like, just sleep together in the same bed."

Harry had been blushing himself, even though he was so forward with his remark. "Oh." He said, embarrassed to have gotten it wrong. His arms fell off her shoulders.

Natalia had her arms crossed, hugging herself. "W- will you?"

It was hard for Harry to hear. She sounded so vulnerable. She looked so cute and adorable as she willed him to accept with her large eyes and Harry assumed was a quivering lip, though he couldn't tell with the lack of light and her face being shadowed.

Could he bring her to the Chamber of Secrets? Using his cloak, he could sneak them in, that wouldn't be an issue. The Chamber itself would protect its secret, that hadn't been an issue before.

Whether Harry's overtired mind had anything to do with agreeing or not, he wasn't sure. He knew he wanted to go to bed and having Natalia cuddled up to him sure sounded like a lovely idea.

"Sure. I'll apparate us there but you'll have to sneak in with me under my invisibility cloak, being as silent as possible."

Fuck. He'd just agreed but she hadn't sworn to keep his secrets yet. He couldn't compromise his location. She'd known he stayed somewhere at Hogwarts, or might be able to talk about it if she remembered meeting with him. For instance, if Daphne recalled he met up with her at Hogwarts, that would seem natural. But Natalia going there would be different. If Dumbledore found out, he might be able to put all the clues together, if he hadn't already…

"You'll have to be blindfolded though, I can't let you know where you are staying until you swear the vows."

"O- okay." She agreed hesitantly.

Harry could see she was happy with it though, she smiled and her eyes were alight.

Harry conjured a blindfold, slipped the cloak over them and apparated. It was an easy journey down into the Chamber. He kept a localised quieting charm around them and was able to talk her through everything. She just hugged herself to his back and walked behind him. It was annoying but not that difficult, just slow.

Harry didn't take the blindfold off until she was in the bedroom, he didn't want to risk her seeing anything.

Natalia was quite happy to get out of the blindfold and after Harry had shown her the bathroom she quickly got ready. Harry himself quickly used the loo then got into bed, keeping just a pair of trousers on.

Natalia came back into the bedroom, her hair let down, spandex shorts that only went part way down her thigh and a white tank top. Harry's eyes were glued to her form, he'd never seen so much of her skin and figure. The tank top didn't have anything between it and her chest, no bra, as he could see two darker points trying to poke through her shirt.

Harry didn't have long to look as she quickly cross the room and jumped in bed, lifting the blanket up and sliding beneath it.

Harry dropped back down onto his back, having just been propped up on his elbow so he could see her better.

Natalia's hand made contact with his bare chest and rubbed up and down quickly before she scooted over, her shoulder resting on him

Harry could feel her soft breasts push against his chest. He could feel Natalia slide a leg over his and intertwine hers between his. He could feel her breath and he froze, not sure what to do.

Natalia quirked her head up and kissed his cheek softly. "Goodnight Harry. Sleep well. I know I will."

"Good night." He murmured back.

He'd never experienced anything like this before. She wasn't making a move on him, she wasn't trying to seduce him. She just wanted to be close to him, that was the best he could figure.

He felt her breathing evening out, slowing, and Harry decided to focus on that. Just relax and enjoy the body contact. Let his mind calm and rest.

He was so tired, she was so warm, he was soon relaxed and into the realm of morpheus.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

He was so warm. He tried to crack his bleary eyes but failed on his first attempt.

Why would he want to get warmed up when he was wrapped up and cuddling so wonderfully?

He could feel a chest rising and falling against his right side and the matching breaths above him and to the right.

He could feel a chest rising and falling against his left side and the matching breathing from his left just above him.

Wait.

Two people were in bed with him. Didn't he just go to bed with Natalia?

How could this have happened?

Did Daphne get down here unescorted? No... he kept the locket.

He wracked his memory, trying to figure out why there was someone other than Natalia in bed with him, not that he was complaining too much, being all warm and cozy.

He couldn't come up with anything.

Back to Plan A: opening his damn eyes.

He tried again and after two more attempts he was briefly successful. His vision was blurry and all he could see was silver-blonde.

He worked at it again and then blinked in rapid succession to clear his eyes. He looked around and caught sight of the other person.

Fleur.

Fleur Delacour.

He was in bed with Natalia Pavlova and Fleur Delacour!

No. This was a dream.

He went to bed with Natalia and now he was dreaming.

It all made sense now…. Just a dream. Right?

He should really be sure. Or… maybe… just take advantage of the situation?

Harry opened his eyes again and looked at Fleur. She looked so cute and _damn_ sexy. Her top was askew and presented a generous helping of her cleavage visible.

Great fucking dream.

There was no need to change where he was staring…. Unless Natalia was in the same state of dress?

Harry craned his neck around and looked at Natalia.

Except… Natalia didn't have silver-blonde hair. Nor was she a little girl…

Harry lifted his head up and looked from his right to his left. Fleur on one side, sleeping away, and Gabrielle on the other.

It was enough to freak Harry the fuck out!

He did the manly thing to do in this situation. He screamed.

Except his ears didn't hear a yell. They heard a shriek. A shriek he knew very well!

Harry shut his eyes and bolted up in bed.

"What. The. Fuck." He said, his hand feeling his bed and his eyes making sure he was seeing things correctly.

He was in his room in the Chamber, he could see that now. His right hand found a body, his left, empty bed.

"Are you alright?" He heard a voice from his right, half asleep and half frantic with worry.

Harry turned his head toward the voice and saw Natalia. She looked worried about him.

"Ju- ju- just a dream." He said, feeling his heart trying to beat out of his chest.

He began taking deep deliberate breaths. He counted to three in his head over and over, un deux trois, un deux trois...

He felt arms wrap around him and Natalia pressed herself against him, now that she was sitting up in bed as well. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Harry heaved out another long slow breath. "Yes. Just a weird dream. Sorry for waking you."

"No, you don't need to be sorry. I'm glad I could be here to help." Harry could virtually hear her smile.

"Thanks, but we should get back to sleep." He said as he laid back down on his back.

"How about we get your mind off of the dream first… Onto something more pleasant?"

Harry watched as Natalia turned around and then slid her knee over him, straddling his stomach.

She bent down, lowering her head, and grabbed the side of his face with her soft warm hands, cupping his face, drawing him up toward her.

His lips met hers and he brought his hands up to her head, one cupping her cheek and the other found its way into her hair.

This wasn't Fleur, he didn't have permission to roam his hands all over her body. He'd respect that here and now, keeping his hands to her face, shoulders, neck, scalp and hair.

After a couple minutes of making out she sat up before sliding her hips off him. She dropped down and this time half her body was on top of his, her head tucked under his.

"Good night Harry." She said sweetly.

'Good night." Harry whispered back.

He could feel her breathing slow, over time, and tell she was falling asleep on him.

Harry's mind wasn't ready to sleep yet. It would take some time before his brain could stop trying to figure out what he'd just experienced.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one bites the dust. It's always nice to get another chapter done. Thanks to Nauze for the excellent beta work!
> 
> Thanks for all the reviews, favs, follows and comments. The fic discord is humming along. For all those that wish to join, check for the invite link in my profile if you wished to join that.
> 
> I did pass everything in my course and now have to write my exam shortly. It'll pull time away from writing but have no fear, it's the only education I'm doing this year and I'll still be around.


	35. Overt Overtures & Obscure Organization

When Harry awoke in the morning at his usual time, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, and found Natalia propped up beside him, her soft blue eyes watching him and the blanket pulled up around her chest as she sat with her knees pulled up, her head resting on them.

"Morning," she greeted him softly. "Did you sleep well?"

Harry pressed his palms on the bed and pushed himself up.

"Yeah, I did," he responded, "great even. Other than waking up that one time, that is." The dream really freaked him out, if was even a dream… "You?"

Harry couldn't help but think of how adorably cute she looked with the side of her head resting on her knees and her warm, happily content gaze being directed at him.

"I've never done something like this before." She said quietly, her blue eyes never leaving his form. "It was nice… _really _nice." She let out a breath of soothed satisfaction.

"Me neither." Harry added. He'd been more physical with Fleur than with Natalia, but he'd not spent a night in the same bed as a girl before, even if it was a totally chaste event.

Harry leaned over and planted a line of soft kisses up her arm, starting from her elbow and reaching towards her shoulder.

Natalia shivered in delight, at Harry's actions. "We need to talk before I leave, though."

Harry abruptly stopped and leaned back against the headboard, upon hearing the ominous words. "Talk about what?" He questioned carefully. He'd just spent the night in bed with her and thought they were getting things put to rights between them.

"About the gift from my family, the paperwork I gave you last time we were together." She said, eliciting the interview with Macnair to come to mind.

"It's a test, Harry," she told him flatly. "Father wants to see what you are going to do, now that you have an inkling of what those arrayed against you have been working toward."

"I see…" Harry said, thinking back to his discussions with Cyrus and Horace about it. "It's not such an easy thing. I'm gathering allies but, at the moment, it's just me and a couple advisors. We're building but we're just getting started." Harry rubbed his face with his two hands.

Natalia hadn't shifted yet. She was still holding her legs with her hands and upper body leaned forward onto her thighs. "My parents haven't spoken to me about it… but, I know what they will want to see."

Harry's ears perked up, she was confident, he could hear the earnestness in her voice. "Okay…" He said gestured her to continue, making it clear she had his attention and that he wanted her input.

"They want to see your resolve," she told him. "They want to see you are willing to take decisive action against your foes, they want to see preemptive action, they want to see what many on the continent were waiting for, the last time You-Know-Who threatened to overthrow the Ministry."

"Resolve and decisive action?" Harry said, more tasting the words and hearing them come from his mouth than anything else.

Natalia didn't respond to his words, she just watched him. The ballerina brought her arm up and worked it between her head and knees, giving her a more comfortable perch for her head, elevating it a little as well.

"They want me to take out someone on the list, or have someone do it for me?" Harry asked, his tone subdued.

"It could be that, or something else," she responded. "There is a lot of value, tying themselves to the Potters and Blacks… but… that's only if you win."

"Obviously." Harry responded.

"I've told you before, and I'll tell you again." She sat up and turned, placing her hands on Harry, "I want to help you. I can do it. I _will _do it." There was something in her eyes that he hadn't seen for sometime. As if whatever had changed between them had reignited a part of her that was missing. Harry thought it might have been resolve, but she'd been determined during its absence. If anything, it might be a mix of resolve, hope and direction.

From what Harry understood, Natalia had been expecting her life to go a certain way. Her ballet was an out, an escape from what she knew she'd have to do. But, when Harry came along, she had a chance to be just Natalia, not Natalia Pavlova. That her pursuit of Harry had been of her own volition. Well.. maybe. Harry wasn't actually sure whether Lacroix had introduced them as just Harry and Natalia, if she'd been pressured into it, if Natalia knew about it ahead of time and whether she had been pushed to date him by her family. But none of that really mattered.

What _did _matter, to Harry, was that the girl in front of him was acting more like the Natalia he'd known and met, not the unbalanced and unstable one. She was calm, she was collected and she was caring, proactively helping him.

She was more balanced and carefree.

"Thanks." Harry said, placing his hand on top of hers and squeezing it. "So I'm going to need to strike a blow against my enemies for your family to approve of us?" Harry wanted to be sure about this, everything he understood had been that they wanted him for his name and lineage.

"No. I don't think that's the case." Natalia responded, a frown marring her face. "I think it's a test. When… if… negotiations happen, there will be different responses. Like, if you take no action, things will have to go more in their favor; but, if you show you can handle things here, they'd be more comfortable… and lenient." She was almost wincing when she said that, clearly unhappy with the words coming out of her mouth.

Harry didn't feel she was being particularly articulate. "So if I'm not willing to murder people who go against me, they'll be arses in negotiations? I'm not really liking the sound of that…" He raised an eyebrow at her and kept a pensive look on his face.

Natalia rolled her eyes. "No. That's not at all what I'm trying to say." She'd apparently had enough of the position and scooted her bum over so her hip was up against Harry's. The brown haired young lady then swung her legs up and over Harry's, leaving her thighs resting on his. Turning her upper body, she nuzzled into him.

"In the last war, the continent was none too interested in getting involved. Your Wizengamot had voted to stay out of things, officially. Most of those who helped, like your grandfather, Charlus Potter, were old and were no longer going to be front line combatants." Harry always admired her when she got like this. Power and politics were not her passion but she'd learned enough to be knowledgeable. He always found it fascinating to hear the Pavlov perspective versus what he already knew, much of it from Slughorn.

"Those that felt indebted to those who had volunteered to help against Grindelwald, were none too eager to send their children off to fight what looked to be an insurgency, where loyalties were split and the Ministry ineffective. To most of those who might have been willing to aid, it appeared that the resistance to You-Know-Who and his forces was hesitant. You had a reluctant to punish Ministry, a vigilante group led by Dumbledore which only used non-lethal methods, and they fought against a fanatical group that would eviscerate foes and their whole family." Natalia patiently explained the background.

"So when my family presents you with an interrogation that shows they are still active and plotting your demise, they want to see if there is something worth supporting. They won't back Dumbledore, they won't throw their lot in with the Ministry, and that leaves only you."

Harry nodded, now better understanding her rationale. He thought Natalia was done making her point but apparently she was not, as her mouth began moving once more.

"When the Dark Lord was killed, the Ministry showed their lack of backbone and let anyone with a modicum of an excuse off. Dumbledore could have used his clout but he did not. Now he's the Chief Warlock for a Wizengamot that routinely works against him, his greatest opposition being those that he could have had their power taken from them. He let his enemies live to regroup, too soft to imprison them, let alone permanently deal with them, and now they are the dominant political power in the country." She shook her head after speaking with disgust.

"Father would be in favor of helping but he doesn't want his investment to last. If you were to emulate Dumbledore, it would be a different kind of investment…" She added and pulled herself into him.

Harry wrapped an arm around her and assisted her in pressing herself against him. He could feel her warm braless chest pushing against his bare skin, a thin fabric was all that separated them. He couldn't help but sneak a glance, not that she didn't notice, as she was looking at him when he did it.

He saw her smirk but ignored it in favor of following up on her previous comment. "I get it. I'll think about it some more. We've already talked some but there has been indecision on the correct course to take." Harry said with a little frustration.

"Mmmm, this is so nice…I could get used to this..." Natalia purred, enjoying the contact with him. "Sadly I need get going and eat, however.."

"I can have Dobby scrounge something for you, if you want. What do you normally eat?" Harry offered as Natalia gave him one last hug before she began to extricate herself from him.

"Dobby?" She quietly questioned, quickly quirking her head to the side.

"My house elf." Harry replied before he called him.

"Master Harry?" The elf said, carefully eunciating his words correctly.

"Dobby, meet Natalia Pavlova." She glanced at him, shooting Harry an odd look.

"Miss Talia" Dobby greeted before bowing.

Harry had been training his arse off and had decided Dobby should too. He suggested to the elf that he learned from the Hogwarts elves. The diminutive creature had come a long way in a short period of time.

"Do you want something before you go?" Harry asked.

"Sure, oatmeal and two hard boiled eggs, if that's not too much trouble."

As soon as she'd finished asking the elf popped away she questioned him further, "Your elf? I thought you might be staying with whomever is teaching you." She said and Harry was pleased to note it didn't come across as if she was fishing for information.

"He was the former Malfoy elf. Before my second year, he came to visit me and warn me of a plot. It was against what his then-master would have wanted. I tricked Malfoy into releasing him and he's been rather fond of me since. The little guy does all my shopping, cooking, cleaning and who knows what else." He shook his head amusedly, "But he's a good friend and completely loyal." Harry added fondly.

Natalia just nodded her head and removed herself from the bed. "I'll quickly get ready." She took one step away from the bed before dexterously spinning on one foot, the other bent at the knee, and twirled back to face him. She dashed back onto the bed and dropped a firm kiss right on his lips, leaving hers to linger on Harry's lips for a moment.

She pushed herself back, from leaning over the bed, and quickly stood, her chest bouncing with the quick movements. Harry's eyes followed the movement, like a moth to a flame, and she caught him again. "Can't leave without my kiss, now can I?" She gave him a sultry wink and blew him another kiss before giggling as she skipped to the bathroom.

Harry watched her arse swaying away, his eyes not failing to notice her enticing bare legs as well. He quickly got up and dressed. Within a few minutes they were both sitting in the chairs and eating a quick simple breakfast.

"Mind if I put something out there, or do you have to go too soon?" Harry ventured between bites of his apple.

Natalia cast a quick tempus and said she had to leave in ten minutes, inviting him to talk so long as he understood her time constraint.

"I know you were open to the idea of you and Daphne but what about Fleur?" He really didn't want to bring it up, especially after things had gone so well this morning but…he just felt he should.

Natalia immediately scowled upon hearing Fleur's name. With her lips pursed she replied, "I don't think she'd accept me, so it's a moot point."

Harry sighed, of course she was going to give an answer like that. Natalia wouldn't make this any easier for him.

"If she went along with it, and the Delacour family would birth the Potter heirs, while you could birth the Black heirs… or… there is the possibility of another family I could gain headship of…" He was reluctant to add the last part but thought it was vague enough not to worry about it. He was, of course, thinking about the Peverell and Slytherin names. Supposedly, he was a _potential_ Slytherin heir, he still needed to prove _worthy_ of it, somehow. The centaur had called him Son of Peverell and after hearing Daphne's story, he considered that he could be a descendant of Ignotus Peverell, the first holder of the incredible cloak that he possessed. Though, revealing his connection to the three legendary brothers might be a ghastly idea.

"Another family?" She stopped eating and cast her shrewd gaze on him.

Harry nodded slowly, "It would be immediately recognizable, but I'm still looking into the legalities of it." He felt bad for kind of lying because he wasn't doing that, exactly. He was trying to become the Slytherin Heir but he didn't know how to do that. The Peverell name was not one he would utter in front of anyone who didn't have an Unbreakable Vow. Any requests for information at the Ministry would more than likely get out to the general public, and he wasn't going to risk that, ever.

Natalia turned back to her food and ate a mouthful, carefully considering his words, before responding. "Are you saying you'd consider _three_ _wives_?" Both of her eyebrows were raised and her lips were thinned as she waited for a reply.

Harry grimaced, not from the scrutiny of Natalia, but from indecision. "Maybe? Yes? No?" Harry dropped his head and ran his hand through his hair, ending with rubbing the back of his neck while his face faced the floor, though his eyes were tightly shut.

"I don't know." His green eyes found her blue ones, "I'd prefer one wife, a normal sized family and a nice normal nuclear family. But, things aren't that simple… " He huffed in frustration, "Am I considering three? Yes, but I don't want to be. Two would be easier but if I'm having more than one wife then why not three, why not get double the advantage of having a second wife?" He questioned like it was the obvious thing to do, unveiled sarcasm leaking through as he threw his hands up.

"Sure, there are some nice things about multiple wives but it's never been something I sought." He slumped back in his chair and took a large bite out of the side of the apple he hadn't yet gotten to, loudly chewing it as it was larger than he would normally have taken, bits of apple almost falling out of his mouth.

Harry stared into the fire and tried to steady himself. He focused on eating and looking at the embers in the fireplace, Dobby must have taken care of that, he didn't think it was active at all when he woke.

"I don't know either." Natalia finally answered after a long silence. "Like, I can see that there are benefits for me." She said bemusedly, not sure what to make of her own answer.

Harry wasn't expecting any sort of positive response. He knew that Natalia was open to considering Daphne, and he knew she was okay with dating him while he may have been pursuing another but this…No. This he didn't expect any kind positive consideration.

"If it was just me and you, if we had that happily ever after together, with all the politics working out, you'd need _a lot_ of children. _A lot_." She said again with a shudder. "My family will want at least one child to keep the Pavlov name, and if you have three others…" She shuddered again at the implications. "The ideal world would be _at least_ two per family. Seven. Seven would be the minimum goal." She looked horrified at the prospect.

She put her bowl down on the side table, having finished her oatmeal earlier, "I can do a couple kids… but I'd prefer them later, though not within a decade if it could be helped…I'd like to be twenty-five or older."

Harry understood that. While she was young and in the prime of her career, she'd prefer to focus on that. He guessed she would like to hold off on pregnancy until she was in her thirties but her parents might be unhappy with that, he also doubted Horace would be in favor, when the whole point was to ensure his lines did not die out.

"With Fleur being older, and you having another wife for the second line, that would free me up from obligations, like Daphne had said…" she said contemplatively. "But I'd have to share your attention…" she added bitterly, openly scowling at the prospect.

"I won't answer today," she said slowly, coming to that conclusion just before the words departed her lips. "I won't dismiss it outright but I won't agree either." She decided with confidence.

Harry thought she'd be the second most difficult to convince if he was going to go in this direction. Daphne would be the easiest to convince. She seemed eager to take on the burden of the contract than to allow even the possibility of her child be stuck with it.

The most difficult one, he thought, would be Fleur. That would be something to sort out at a later date. He knew not every relationship always worked out. He really liked her, but the decision would be out of his court, after he decided to pursue multiple wives, something he hadn't committed to yet. If Slughorn had his way, he'd have a bloody harem of mistresses and wives.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_What is the point of life? What kind of legacy will I leave behind?_

_These are questions that have plagued me for months on end, as I near my own end. What was the point of the life I lived? These are the kinds of questions that I can no longer escape from._

_The more I have considered it, the more I am convinced that my life will find fulfillment in what I leave behind. It is my legacy that will be my heir. One that will come after me and surpass me. A man who will be ruthless to his enemies, loving to his family, cunning in all pursuits, and one who will not be lost to the pursuit of power. Any heir of mine __**will**_ _be powerful, that will never be in question. The issue will be one of character, one of integrity, and the strength of will to follow the correct path. For I have found it is the heart of the individual that matters._

_I have long considered my options and no longer believe in providing advanced tutelage for the unworthy. Seeing your teachings used against others, having your hard work spat upon… No, the unworthy will never receive the gifts I am able to pass along. It is too dangerous to hand out, it is too potent to allow just anyone to possess._

_My tutelage would make even a mediocre wizard into a powerhouse. Between the parseltongue learning and the seven sets of rituals, one cannot be anything _but _a strong wizard. If one started as a weak wizard, they would become strong and those that are already strong would become peerless. Yet, it is not the strength of the wizard that makes them great._

_My legacy will be my heir because they will be one with what is, above all, most important. They will have a strength of character that is harder than any forged metal. They will have a heart purer than mine own._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Forty paces and forty moving targets. No distractions from a wild Cuddles, dipping and diving as she flies around trying to make a nuisance of herself during the exercise. It was odd to be training again, for the second straight day, without his little dragon. He kept expecting it, but there wasn't any evidence from her hunts through the pipes, looking for rats. There was no shrieking and the fire proofing he'd done on reflex was just wasted spellwork.

He rubbed his shoulder as he mentally prepared for this. The targets were moving in ways that were not exactly obvious and he'd been challenged to take it a step further. He was supposed to think about other things while doing it. Salazar had commented that his mind should not be actively thinking about the spell practice. His mind should be actively thinking about other topics. The point being that this next step would make it routine, basic, a negligent action that needed little to none of his focus.

Harry began to think, he hadn't been able to get the last journal entry out of his head. The later the passage, the more introspective Salazar Slytherin became. He was talking less and less about magic and more and more about life lessons. The further he read the more comfortable he was that he had made the correct call to go ahead with everything.

Harry's wand arm was a blur, each movement throwing out a deadly spell that was aimed to penetrate targets, his trusted piercing hex. Un, deux, trois, his first three spells punctured their targets with nary a thought from Harry, no concentration, just robotic actions of his body, his keen eyesight and hand-eye coordination.

No matter how comfortable he was becoming, learning from the controversial man, he knew, in his gut, that there was something else coming. Just following the directions wouldn't lead to being worthy. If it was simply reading books and following their plans, then there would've been several Slytherin Heirs littered throughout history.

But there wasn't.

The Hat had told him, many had attempted this before and _all_ had failed.

_All had failed._

It was beyond arrogant to think it would be so easy. It was why he knew something was coming, something that nobody had been able to overcome. It made him wary. It made him cautious. It made him train harder.

Spells continued to race out his wand, as he was moving, static target practice hadn't been used for weeks now. Three more dropped, un, deux, trois, with a dozen or so already destroyed. Harry began to dodge imaginary spells, varying his spell release points, their height, depth and angles. Target after target kept dropping… and this was only the first round.

Each day he worked himself as hard as he could. McGonagall had been amazing so far. Flitwick had been unbelievable. Yet, it wasn't enough. He needed to grow beyond them. He needed to be able to walk amongst the Titans of the magical world. He needed to become as strong as Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Grindelwald. He needed to be Salazar Slytherin reborn, nay, he needed to be _greater _than that. And his task was thus, his task was to become a titan, to wield magic in such a way that none could stand against him.

It was his drive, his goal. He'd never be out from under the thumb of Dumbledore if he had to hide behind the man's prowess when Voldemort returned. He'd never be able to avenge his parents if all he could do was rely on others to help him escape Tom Riddle.

The final three targets were torn through, mere seconds apart, trois, deux, un. Harry used his forearm to wipe his forehead. His breathing was steady, not yet laboured, yet not fully relaxed either. There was a slight sheen of sweat on him and he began the spellwork to reset his targets, to prepare for the next round.

His head was overflowing with thoughts these days. His mind was never at rest. Not until he worked himself to exhaustion was he able to find succor through deep sleep. When there was energy to burn still, his mind wandered and gave him insomnia.

Though he didn't tell Natalia, her presence really soothed him. He didn't come back and physically work himself, like he had been recently, to ensure he fell asleep.

All this pressure, all these plots, all the negotiations, they were starting to wear him down. He'd been working and training so hard that he felt he was starting to buckle under all the weight on his shoulders. And it was a good thing he was going to meet his advisors. He'd kind of had enough of trying to navigate everything and needed some relief.

Harry finished his last roll, having hit the final target in the second round, and stayed crouched on one knee. His breathing was mildly laboured but not to the point where he couldn't keep this up for some time yet, sweat was more pronounced but he was not yet dripping as he would be, later on in his workouts. He got up and prepared for the next round, a little disheartened he didn't have a dragon trying to screw with his concentration, blocking spells, screeching, roaring and lighting things on fire. It felt too quiet, it felt wrong.

Harry had everything reset and began his next round, the final one for this morning. Time to get his mind on other things again.

He thought about Natalia, Fleur, and even Daphne, to a lesser extent. He was being pressured on all of those fronts and Horace was the one who was pushing the envelope the most. He was adamant he should be locking in allies now, while everything was peaceful and he was a media darling. His stock wouldn't be rising that much higher, within the next few years, and now was the time to capitalize on it, to do it now, before things crashed and burned.

Harry kept his spellfire up, jumping from one leg to the other, landing and going into a single legged squat before pushing back up. He'd do some explosive single leg squats, as if he had jumped and needed to land on a single leg, bracing the impact to take on his whole weight before exploding in another direction. He did all of these things while keeping his wand a whirlwind of death, his spells penetrating the targets.

He did his best to keep his mind active, thinking about something completely different from what he was trying to accomplish. He was having a rough time figuring out what, in Merlin's name, he had seen in his sleep. Was it a dream? Was it something else? It felt too vivid, too real to be just a dream. He could close his eyes and do his best to picture Fleur's exposed breasts… but seeing them was different than trying to remember what they looked like. The dream didn't feel like it was fuzzy, in any way, about the perception of her sleeping attire.

No, what threw him off more was Gabrielle's presence. In no way did he believe he was some bloody pedophile. There wasn't a conceivable scenario where Harry could imagine himself lusting after a _child_. The only way his mind had come up with, as a conceivable way for him to have the _potential_ for perverted thoughts about her, _a child_, was _if_, and it was a big _if_, not something he'd _ever _done, nor would he _ever_ do, would be if he was imagining her when she was older, legal, and years, _many_ years, past puberty

Harry's aim was thrown off when he violently shuddered. No, no, no! Nope, nope, nope! _Never_ happening.

There wasn't a single chance he'd had what was the makings of a wet dream involving Gabrielle.

His mind had been working frantically to come up with another option and it was difficult to do so. Really, the only thing he had come up with was…he went to sleep as Harry…and woke up as Cuddles?

It was the only thing he could think of that made any sense. The two of them were magically linked. His magic fed into her to make her grow. He could communicate commands to her with just his thoughts… Like really… _really… _it was the only thing that made sense.

Harry was finished once more, final set down and he wiped his face with his off hand. He waved his wand and used just his intent, will, power and creativity to dry himself off, removing the smell as well. It wasn't quite a shower but it kept him from smelling like a horse's arse.

He slipped his wand back into his holster and decided it was time to hit the books. He was all done on his wanded courses, for NEWT level material, and was just working to finish up the rest of his courses. He wanted to write them all before the Third Task. Completing two years of intensive studies, in just a few months, would shock people. He'd have to talk with Slughorn and Greengrass and see if it was a good idea to write them all so quickly.

The speed at which he was learning was _not _natural, blatantly so. Writing all of his NEWTs and knocking them out of the park would be like taking out a front page advertisement across the entire wizarding world with bold fluorescent pink lettering saying 'Please Investigate'. Probably not a good idea.

There was the option of writing only a couple subjects but he didn't like that... Maybe he should talk to Griselda Marchbanks again, she might have a good idea too.

Either way, it was time to hit the books before he went off and met with his advisors.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry sat behind his desk, the former desk of Arcturus Black, and watched as Cyrus, and Horace came in. There was a lot on the agenda for this evening and so, after a quick greeting, they were all ready to get to it.

"How were things with the Delacours?" Horace asked, while using his wand to break open a drink, a bottle of wine this time, surprising Harry. Horace normally went for the firewhiskey or things akin to it.

Harry knew Horace was keen on it. He'd been advocating to lock in another major family, especially one like the Delacours to a solid, unbreakable, alliance. If Harry was going to be taking more than one wife, getting it started with one of the most eligible heiresses was ideal. The only drawback was the 'creature' heritage, many of the pureblood matches who would've vied for her were put off by this, not seeing it as a benefit, as Harry does.

"Well." Harry answered succinctly, he expected the slight downturn of Cyrus' lips, he was in favor of going more domestic with their selections, thinking tying him in further, locally, would help more with the Voldemort issue. Beyond his own daughter, he'd even suggested Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot as daughters of two well respected families with strong bonds to other families, that they were friends with Daphne probably had as much to do with it as anything, Harry thought.

"They will support us and I'd like to add Patrice into these meetings shortly." Harry eyed both men carefully.

"Is it wise to bring him here? There is very little reason to include him beyond the cold war we are embarking on." Cyrus said, his lips thinned as he finished.

"We can have a pre-meeting before." Harry easily waved off his concern, "They are joining and have sworn their vows. They could have stayed out of it, breaking off their negotiations and leaving us to fend for ourselves." Harry allowed his words to sink in for a few seconds before he continued, he wanted them to _really_ think about how easy it would be for them to walk away and not risk their family.

"We'll recognize that and they'll be _full _participants. Anyone who puts their family in the firing line _should _be fully aware of what they are involved in." He was adamant about this. It would be disrespectful and wrong to do otherwise was Harry's reasoning.

"Others that you might add will be made aware of horcruxes?" Horace asked in such a way that the underlying assumption was that they should be kept secret.

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. That was a good question.

"Even with the Unbreakable Vow, there are ways of acting on information that might reveal that we have uncovered the secret." Cyrus joined Horace's camp for keeping that information from the Delacour family with an important point.

Harry leaned forward and dropped his head down, moving his hand to the back of his neck and rubbing the back of it. He really understood the importance of information control but that was something that the major players would need to know. It was really something they'd have to confront Dumbledore over. There was no way the man wasn't aware of it to some degree.

"We'll need to balance the _absolute need _to keep it secret with the need to hunt down and destroy the remaining ones." He said, not committing himself to a future course of action, receiving nods from both men.

"Did they offer to conclude the marital negotiations?" Horace asked, persisting on finding out more on the consequences of revelations to the French family.

"No," Harry said slowly, frowning and turning his chin toward the man, "they… didn't." He concluded, they hadn't said anything about it at all after he'd dropped the bomb of knowledge on them.

"Oho! Not too be unexpected, my boy." Slughorn reassured him jovially with a congenial smile. "The rest of the terms are easily within agreeable tolerances, a few hiccups, perhaps, but if you'd not come with the revelations you had, we'd likely be toasting your betrothal." He raised his glass, in a false cheers, and took a sip of his wine, three fingers on the thin stem of the glass, controlling its movements.

Cyrus smiled tightly, "Yes, well, did you want to cover the basis of the plan for the family affairs, within the context of these negotiations?" He attempted to guide the conversation to cover the items he was directly overseeing.

"Not so quick there, Cyrus, not so quick." Horace looked smug after Cyrus huffed at the interruption. "I've just been to visit Ackerly and I have big news." He was grinning like a cheshire cat, "He'd come from meeting with Amelia Bones herself, the Interim Minister and front runner until next week's Wizengamot vote."

Horace broke eye contact with Cyrus and looked at the drink in front of him, sitting on a coaster on the desk. His right hand grabbed it and he used his fingers to spin it in its place, rotating the slender stem of the glass.

It was obvious he was enjoying drawing this out. With measured movement, he took another mouthful of his drink, making sure to swirl it within his mouth, extensively testing it on his palate, before swallowing with an exaggeratedly loud 'ah' to complete the sedate sampling of his drink. "A lovely vintage." He murmured, looking at his wine glass. Horace smacked his lips "yes, truly lovely."

If Harry wasn't annoyed with him delaying his announcement, he would be marvelling at how well he was able to act. He truly looked to be none the wiser that the other two wizards in the room were thoroughly vexed at him.

"Right," he said, _finally_ getting back on topic, amusement dancing behind his eyes "right, right, Ackerly stated the DMLE has concluded it's thorough review of Sirius Black's incarceration." He daintily picked up his wine again and slowly brought it to his mouth.

Harry wanted to react, he wanted to snap at the man but it was the exact thing he was trying to provoke, well that and some personal enjoyment. Harry thought this was done more to bother Cyrus than him. Although the Head of House Greengrass wasn't showing it outwardly, Harry was sure it was annoying him a great deal.

"It appears the evidence is beyond flimsy, all of it being circumstantial, at best, and it's going to be blamed on the Director of the DMLE at the time."

Cyrus scoffed, "Blaming the disgraced Barty Crouch for it, spitting on an already desecrated grave, sounds about right."

"Not just him," Slughorn picked up Cyrus' line of thought, "Fudge will be prosecuted for failing to follow due process. Ordering the Dementor's Kiss is only legal with a Wizengamot vote, and there wasn't one."

"Ah, so they tarnish the disgraced outgoing government and come in riding a wave of popularity, foiling a Death Eater plot and championing the rights of citizens, correcting the injustices of the previous regimes." Harry summed up the political maneuvering that Bones was doing.

"Well done, my boy, well done." Slughorn praised as he beamed at Harry. "Her first act will be publicly clearing Sirius of all charges, provided Sirius' interviews go well this week."

"Interviews?" Cyrus questioned with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, interview. A somewhat voluntary interview with DMLE, Ackerly will be attending as well." Slughorn informed them.

Harry nodded, it was nice to think there was at least one thing being taken off his list. He was glad he'd listened and had sought legal assistance with this. He certainly didn't need more on his plate.

"Any word on the expected settlement for Sirius and the Black family?" Cyrus asked, some eagerness leaking into his tone as he leaned forward ever so slightly.

"None, other than it will be a quiet ordeal that will be taken care of quickly. It won't be part of the press release." Slughorn said.

That didn't matter so much to Harry but he did notice how it shoehorned the conversation back to the direction that Cyrus had wanted it to go to previously.

"Well, it will be a pleasant thing, the Black family is severely lacking in its liquidity and income producing holdings." He stated imperiously.

The man didn't give an opportunity to be side tracked at this time. "The plan is multi-faceted, restructuring the finances of both your families and rebuilding their positions." He started his explanation, the one he'd been putting together after going through the Potter and Black holdings.

"The Potter family has rather limited assets. With your approval," he said, looking at Harry, "the historical monument in Godric's Hollow has been sold to the Ministry, a property which was only recently acquired, relatively speaking. Beyond that, they hold few, if any, investments."

Harry nodded, he knew this basic information, they had not had good stewardship of their finances but had left Harry enough to have a nice nest egg. It was nice that he was getting this base information again but he wanted to hear more about the plans for the future.

"The Black family holdings are far more substantial but are in total disarray. They went through a tumultuous decline in assets, most of it funnelled towards the campaign of You-Know-Who." Cyrus continued.

Again, Harry already knew this.

"They have many holdings that are underproducing, not producing, or need serious infusions of capital to make them viable. Meanwhile, the Potters have available Capital and the thirty percent ownership of the Daily Prophet. While it is possible to sell the holding, I believe your forebears had reached the same conclusion as I, that their political benefit outweighs their financial potential by a good margin."

Harry nodded, although he did not have a majority holding, nobody did. In fact, his family was the largest shareholder. Three others held twenty percent and the staff of the Daily Prophet jointly had the rights to the final ten percent.

"The two families have an interesting financial dichotomy. One with capital but not real assets, and the other with assets but no capital to make the most of them. This leads to the work-up I have done. In short, there are two options that I foresee as beneficial to both Houses." Cyrus eyed Harry, he cast a wary glance at Horace, who had remained silent, content to just hold his wine and listen.

"The real difference is, how intertwined do you wish your families to be? In one option, we can sell Black assets to the Potter family and use the proceeds to get the Black family holdings churning out profit as they should be. This arrangement would allow for total separation of all financial dealings." Cyrus informed him.

"The second option would be to set up joint ventures, where the Potter family buys into joint ownership and funds projects. For instance, the Black family has a parcel of land that has a single derelict building on it, hidden behind still active muggle repelling wards. The Potter family can bankroll the building of a six-storey commercial building, as the property is zoned for such a use. They'd both share future profits, on an equitable basis, but would remain fiscally tied together, as long as the partnership is maintained."

Harry could tell, just by the tone of his voice, that Cyrus was more in favor of the second option. Tying the two families together financially would help keep closer ties, long term, provided things didn't get ugly. This was a rather long-term strategy discussion, as neither option would be that different while Harry was heading up both families and alive to keep them close.

He looked to Horace, who was keeping silent on the discussion, more than likely waiting for Harry to respond first, testing him, seeing how his weekly lessons, which went far beyond just potions, were taking.

"The second. Continuing the closeness between the two families is important to me." Harry said, noting the pleased look from Horace.

Cyrus swallowed the liquid in his mouth and dipped his head in acknowledgement. "I'll have a comprehensive plan worked out for your approval then, shortly." Harry thought he could hear some eagerness in the man's voice, as if he was looking forward to the work.

"That covers the Delacours and the financial sides, what's next?" Harry asked, looking between both men. They didn't have a specific set agenda but they did cover most things regularly.

"Oh, I didn't mention that Ackerly had also said he's close to a settlement for the illegal use of Harry's name and likeness," Slughorn said abashed at this oversight, "it will certainly help provide capital for House Potter, an ongoing source of revenue too."

Cyrus gave him a sour look, none too pleased to have not heard this earlier. Normally it was Cyrus, as the Steward of House Black, that would have met with Ackerly but it was fortuitous luck that had Horace run into him, leaving him out of the loop until the next meeting with the man.

"Good to hear," Harry said, in way of acknowledgement, his words reflected on their delivery, "that brings us to Riddle."

"Not the Pavlovs?" Cyrus immediately questioned with a frown, shifting in his seat as he asked.

"Well, it will bring them up as well, with my first point of discussion." Harry replied right away.

"Oho! Let's hear it then, my boy!" Horace enthused before waving his wand and refilling his drink.

"Well, Natalia and I are on good terms, great terms even." Harry did his best to not focus on the slightly lecherous grin on his face, not that the sour look on Cyrus' was much better to note. "She informed me that they expect action, considering the Wizengamot let most of the Death Eaters walk, after the last war."

"Action?" Cyrus sat forward in his chair, his eyes intense as he looked at Harry.

Harry looked over to Horace and was surprised to see such a contemplative look. "This would be in response to their prior action?"

"Yes," the young Head of House Potter sighed, "something concrete, something _permanent_."

The unspoken words silenced the room. Harry looked between his two advisors and couldn't get a realistic take on what they were thinking. So, he waited.

"This… this," Horace said, rubbing his chin, "this comes down to what you want to do with Natalia." He said slowly with a degree of caution.

"Meaning?" Harry responded, he thought he understood what was being asked but wanted no ambiguity.

"Meaning," Cyrus interjected, before Horace could reply, "the Pavlov family have made you an overture, the Macnair interrogation and if you are to pursue Natalia Pavlova then they want to see commitment." He stated flatly.

"Yes, if they are going to ally with you, then they want to see you will not be against their way of doing things." Horace added his own thoughts to the question that had been posed to him.

Harry ran his hand through his hair after taking a drink.

"How would it work?" Harry asked, not looking at either man, deeply in thought.

"You didn't ask Natalia that?" Cyrus questioned, no hint of recrimination in his voice.

"Why would I ask her that?" His eyebrows were knit with confusion as he looked to Cyrus with perplexion.

Cyrus drew out a breath and looked to Horace with question.

"Oh! Sorry…I, er, kept the first part in my head." He said with his cheeks gaining a rosy hue. "I meant to ask how would multiple wives work? I already know what Natalia's family wants." He motored through his words, trying to push things away from having losing track of his inner thoughts and what was going on outwardly.

"Not to worry, my boy," Horace chuckled, "it happens to the best of us."

The elder Greengrass man didn't take the same approach; he'd narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, before opening his mouth to speak, "You know what they want? Did Natalia tell you something directly or more of an indirect inference to what would work for them, as an overture?"

Harry noticed how sharp his gaze had gotten. He was taking this incredibly seriously. "They want to see a retaliation of my own, or something like that, and Natalia didn't give me anything direct, she wanted to make sure I understood the underlying meaning of her father's actions." He said, deflecting suspicion away from Natalia.

"I see." Harry watched the man sink into himself, his mind clearly processing and analyzing what he had heard.

"I'm not certain killing off another 'imperiused Death Eater' would not bring retaliation and while we have positive press that may not last if that entire political bloc turns on us, especially if Dumbledore's faction failed to offset them." Slughorn rubbed at his eyes after relaying his concern with the plan.

"Could you even do it?" Cyrus questioned, "Killing isn't easy. Self defense is one thing.. but, killing in cold blood? That… that's something else entirely." He closed his eyes for a moment before taking a large drink, finishing his drink before he refilled it again.

Could he kill? Could he just go and end someone's life?

He'd done it before, he'd killed Quirrell… but, like Cyrus had said, that was self defense. This would be premeditated, he'd have to pick a target and play meticulously. Who would he even pick? Many of them deserved death. Many of them had ended the lives of innocents. But crossing that line? Who was _he _to pick between which Death Eater deserved to live and which one deserved to die?

"Have you decided on multiple wives, versus a single wife?" Horace asked cautiously, his eyes betraying how intensely curious he was to know the answer.

Harry took a deep breath as he considered his answer to that question, he noted how they had both dodged, or missed, his earlier questioning. "Hypothetically speaking, the most preferred positioning, if I were to go for multiple wives, it would be Fleur for House Potter and Natalia for House Black?" He watched how his words were taken and saw the fleeting frown form on Cyrus face that was gone as quickly as it had come.

"Yes," Horace said while nodding, "that would make the most strategic choice, as far as gaining the allegiance of two powerful foreign families." His eyes shot toward the ceiling and he tilted his head, "Although, that would leave the next Black Heir subject to a marriage contract."

Harry already had an idea in his one, one he'd hinted at to Natalia.

"Really though, I'm not sure you'd get that. The two families have antagonistic relations and even if you offered that option to both parties, neither may agree."

Harry understood that. He didn't think it was something that couldn't be overcome however, provided he could get Fleur and Natalia to work at it. There was simply too much upside for some petty grievances to keep it from working. Though, the entire situation would have to be handled with finesse. He knew he'd be ruffling feathers along the way but he'd try for it, the worst that could happen would be for it to not work out.

"What if we went for Fleur for House Potter, Daphne for House Black and any further wives, for those two houses, would have to have the approval of both House Greengrass and House Delacour for more wives." Harry mused aloud.

"Dropping the Pavlov family?" Cyrus asked, disbelief colouring his voice, his sharp eyes watching Harry intently.

"No. Aside from those of us in the room, nobody knows that I'm a candidate to be the heir of Salazar Slytherin, the _first _one." Harry said, regaining both men's complete attention. "The Delacour family would not be aware. This offering looks more like completing of a marriage clause and allowing the Delacour family an extra potential heiress."

"You would give in to that demand?" Horace asked, keeping his voice neutral as to not betray his opinion on the matter.

Harry shrugged, "The boy would be the Potter Heir, the two girls Delacour Heiresses. If the worst happened, there would be two females that could step into place, the child with Daphne, and if things work out for the Slytherin line, then other options there. While it may be best to have a dozen kids running around, to repopulate all the lines, it could wait a generation. Even by this plan, there could be now less than four and if Daphne was able to reverse the ritual…then, more than that."

"You are saying, if I am hearing you correctly, that you'd try and negotiate the Delacours into a contract and trick them, by not revealing you could have a claim to the Slytherin line?" Cyrus asked skeptically.

"Yes." Harry said, a slight grimace came over him as he answered. He didn't like that he might be withholding information, to make his plan work, but it was possibly a necessity.

"Then you'd have to make an overture that would make a statement." Horace concluded. "I've counseled toward rebuilding your lines more thoroughly, and with less international flavour, but this scenario, if it were to work out that is, would be good as well." Slughorn commented, not being overly critical of Harry in the least.

"With only my family being local, that will present a challenge, however. We'd need to draw on allies and build our ranks, or capitulate to the Dumbledore camp and hope we have enough sway to force them in a direction that would be more effective."

Harry wasn't happy with that plan. Even if everything went well with that plan, it still sucked, in his opinion. What would the best case scenario be? He got Susan in a contract, giving him a solid alliance with the niece of the Minister of Magic. Tying the woman sitting in the highest office in the magical world's sole remaining family member would essentially guarantee she did her utmost to end Voldemort.

Then they could astutely add a couple more families which were more neutral, or had strong financial assistance. Between them all, they'd have the basis for a strong faction of their own in the Wizengamot. With the Ministry's backing, they _might_ have enough power to stop a resurgent Dark Lord…

But… Harry didn't actually think that.

The Ministry, under Crouch Sr, had actually been engaging the Death Eaters with intent to kill. They had been keeping captives in prison and they were far more talented, and staffed, than the current DMLE. Even with greater numbers they failed, spectacularly so. Even if Dumbledore had worked with the DMLE, flawlessly, there was no guarantee that would have made a difference.

That plan wasn't one Harry felt comfortable with. He felt it was doomed to failure, repeating the mistakes of the past.

What he needed was something different. Something unexpected. It was why he was thinking this more international arrangement would be better. Already the Pavlov family was pushing him in a direction he would never have considered.

Dumbledore was worried it was a dark direction. Harry snorted, lost within his own thoughts, the ever so nebulous 'dark'. If he had to choose between doing some dark deeds and staying alive, he was going to be crossing into an area Dumbledore wouldn't want him to go.

Heh, he'd answered his earlier question already. He couldn't just sit around and wait. He had to be proactive. If he was going to wade into this shadow war, he'd need to be jumping in with both feet. He'd need to be in the trenches, in the thick of it.

"I'm not going to do that. We may be allies of necessity with Dumbledore but his way didn't work. The Ministry is full of leaks and the people of this country are so cowed that the brave few who fought have been targeted and devastated." Harry's voice was full of conviction, his mind made up.

"Then you will try and pursue both the Delacours and the Pavlovs?" Horace questioned, not commenting on what Harry had said directly.

Harry looked at him directly, "I'm going to do what's necessary to win. What we need, most of all, is a general. We need a strategy that can win. Dumbledore isn't the answer, the Ministry isn't the answer. Maybe the Pavlovs have an answer, or, perhaps, the Delacours."

"I can't say I fully disagree…" Cyrus said, rejoining the discussion. "Even with Bones about to be elected, unless they get a full decade more of peace, they are a ship out at sea, leaking faster than they can bail and they are about to be broadsided." He looked to Horace, to see if he would disagree. When he did not, he continued, "The DMLE isn't what it was, the Death Eaters have been subverting any authority they can try and exert, they have been gathering lists of people who may oppose them, and they have the financial backing to fight a drawn out conflict and win by attrition, against any opponent."

Harry looked at Cyrus in more of a new light. The man had thrown himself in with Harry. He wondered, now, if it was more out of desperation than anything else. He didn't join the Dark Lord the last time, he only had two daughters, and House Greengrass was close to extinction. They'd have to flee or stay entirely out of it if they were to survive. With two beautiful daughters and the Malfoys already having them in their crosshairs… It was probably Harry or nothing.

"Okay, then let me ask this: who is most valuable? Who is the one ally we cannot lose?" Slughorn threw out the question for either to answer.

"The Pavlovs." Cyrus Greengrass replied after some thought, looking sour at the admittance. "They know how to fight dirty. Even just looking at what they did with Macnair… they picked the _perfect_ target."

Harry nodded his head. Patrice was more straight-laced. He'd be like gaining Amelia Bones' full allegiance. He was too close to Dumbledore, too closely aligned with his philosophies. Stunners and redemption were not going to cut it this time around.

"I've been trying to find a general type, some type of advisor for running our combat type strategies. The best I could come up with was Alastor Moody." Harry said with a sigh, not happy he would be admitting how poorly the search had come out.

"Augusta Longbottom was someone mentioned to me, someone who had served against Grindelwald but not at her age. Alastor was the only real candidate but you can throw him out of the running easily. He's too close to Dumbledore and he's loyal to the Ministry. It's obvious he'll be the link between Bones and Dumbledore, if, rather when, hostilities start up again." He was frowning now. Harry didn't like being painted into a corner. Really, there was only one really viable option that he was aware of in the magical world.

"I think I need to send a strong message and show Ivan, and the rest of his family, that we mean business and we aren't going to be messing around." There was still some reluctance within his voice, there was still resistance to just taking life in such a fashion.

"Are you sure this is the direction you'd like to go in? The Pavlov family may not play nice with the Delacours. This might lead to gaining one and losing the other." Slughorn cautioned him.

"Look, this isn't simple. This isn't easy for me." Harry snapped back. "I _really _like Fleur and this decision might end that…" Harry clenched his fists, "...I'm making a decision here to not die, to give myself the best chance of seeing ten years from now. If I could, I'd just date, I'd try and see which one I'd like to spend the rest of my life with! But I don't get that!" Harry spat, unhappy with the situations he was being forced into.

"I get to pick a future wife, future _wives_, based on what I need to stay alive. I'll have to live with this decision for the _rest of my life!_" He hissed out the last few words. "I'm going to have to get an Unbreakable Vow from a person I might be betrothed to shortly, because I can't risk being unsure that I can trust her, or her family."

Harry flopped back in his chair, not wanting to say more. He was frustrated. He was pissed off. He knew the plan to try and get all three was a fool's errand. For all Harry knew, there had been other Slytherin Heirs. Maybe Salazar refused to let anyone carry his name, maybe he wanted them to create their own legacy, getting the Slytherin name might not even be possible.

Slughorn gulped down the rest of his wine and moved around the desk, walking slowly but steadily. "You've got us Harry." He said, "We're with you to the end," Horace placed his hand on his shoulder. "I don't think the Delacours would walk away from you, aside from loyalty, they'd lose too much face to do so now. They'll stick by you as friends, if nothing else."

The cynical part of Harry wanted to disparage that they were only with him because they no longer had an option. It was hard for him to accept that people may not abandon him when things got tough. He didn't trust easily and always waited for the other shoe to drop.

"Who knows," Slughorn said, breaking Harry out of his musings, "maybe she'll surprise you." Though he said the words, it didn't sound like he believed them, not to Harry's ears at least, they'd covered the reasons why it was unlikely Fleur would agree to a multiple wives scenario.

Harry looked up at Horace, "Thanks." He said, placing his hand on Slughorn's, for just a moment.

Harry sat up and grabbed his drink with both hands, sipping at it while Slughorn poured himself another glass of wine.

"So the plan is what, then? Stall negotiations with the Delacour family, quietly sound out if they will entertain not just Fleur marrying you, and to pursue impressing the Pavlov family?" Cyrus summarized where their conversation had led to, asking for clarification that he understood everything correctly.

"Yes." Harry said, his voice quiet and subdued as he nodded.

"Who would you target?" Horace asked, genuinely curious and Harry noted Cyrus was just as curious, if not more so.

Harry had been giving it some thought since the morning. There was a name he'd bandied about within his own head. A single candidate that had tried to kill an innocent first year, a man that was important to the political, financial, and tactical planning of the Death Eaters. A person that is dangerous in the extreme and had recently taken on bad press. Harry had been considering using the idea of framing it as a political assasination, nothing to do with his former Death Eater status.

The more he thought about it, the more Harry rationalized the candidate he had in mind was the best bet.

Harry took a deep breath before revealing the name, no doubt it would surprise them with his audacity.

"Lucius Malfoy."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN
> 
> Alternate chapter title: Overt Overtures & Potent Potables
> 
> Thanks to my awesome beta's Nauze & Triage for the great work! They turned this around within a day!
> 
> Thanks, as always, for reading, kudos, bookmarks and comments!
> 
> For any interested there is a link to a discord for the fic in my profile, it's getting lively in there and I do provide chapter update progress when there is something to report too.
> 
> So many comments on wanting me to give clarity to the final pairings and pacing of the clarity for them. The fic has never been particularly fast paced and heavily action oriented. If you expect that to change now you're in for a let down. Final pairing will never be revealed before the chapter that reveals it is published. Feel free to discuss or vote on discord, or reviews. I'll keep on doing what I'm doing, I do appreciate people can be frustrated and I respect that.


	36. Style, Spurned & Seeking

"So how does it feel to know you're going to be a free man?" Harry asked, a huge grin splitting his face. It was so marvelous to know his godfather was finally going to be free!

"Amazing!" Sirius was almost luminescent, he was aglow with joy and bursting with energy.

Harry watched, amused, as his godfather was running around, hugging Harry, hugging Remus, and almost blundering into the furniture, repeatedly.

"Free! I'm going to be free! After all these years!"

Harry just laughed and shook his head at Sirius' antics, the man was significantly older than him, physically speaking, but mentally… Harry might have a slight edge. Either that or Remus may have sucked out part of his friends maturity and added it onto his own overly developed store.

Harry delved his hand deep into his pocket and his fingers found the hard scales he sought. What was visiting Sirius & Remus without setting Cuddles loose on them?

Harry channelled a little magic into her as he pulled her out of his pocket, making her as large as Fawkes.

"Did you have to bring her?" Sirius immediately whined upon seeing Cuddles.

Harry smirked and used his wand to conjure an elevated rocky plateau, much like a small side table, and put a heating charm on it, just as Cuddles prefered. The little dragon gave a screech of delight and wrapped herself in a ball, snuggling into the warm rock face.

"She doesn't always attack," Harry chuckled as Sirius stayed in a defensive posture, prepared and ready for the dragon to chase him as usual, "Most of the time she just lazes around." Harry was amused when Cuddles let out a snort of fire out of her nostrils, though her eyelids remained shut.

"That's good to know." Remus commented, a content smile on his face as he sat down.

"So, did you come just to tell me the good news? I thought you might have just sent Hedwig along for that, seeing as it isn't happening officially quite yet." Sirius asked while mirroring Remus' earlier movement, sitting himself down, inviting Harry to as well, with a gesture of his hands.

Harry took the armchair right beside Cuddles and drifted his hand over to rest on his familiar, he gently ran his fingers up and down her body, both of them enjoying the familiar affection. He ran his other hand through his hair and slowly sighed, they'd picked up on that right away. It was true though, he generally visited only when there was something worth showing up in-person for.

"I wanted to talk to you about what is going on in my life, ask for some advice and see if you would join my group of advisors." He decided to just be up front with them, "My parents obviously trusted your opinions and I would like to rely on them as well, if you'd allow me to." Harry said, even if he'd kind of laid it on a bit thick. While it was true he valued their opinion, it was to a lesser degree than he'd said. Neither of them were paragons of successful decision making, Sirius rashly landing himself in Azkaban and Remus hiding himself away, lost in his self recriminations.

Remus nodded slowly, "That's good…" He was saying it was good but Harry could see he felt conflicted by it for some reason.

"What's been going on kiddo?" Sirius asked, his earlier jubilance dissipating as things got more serious.

"Lots." Harry said before giving a self deprecating laugh, a sardonic smile sporting on his face as he leaned back, slumping slightly in the chair, one hand never ceasing to pet Cuddles.

"I don't even know where to start but I can give you some idea, especially for you Sirius, as a Son of House Black." Harry had a mischievous look to him when he claimed Sirius as a part of the Black family, he knew how much he hated his upbringing in this home.

"Cyrus Greengrass, as you are well aware, is the Steward of House Black and has returned to the duties Arcturus Black had set him, while also holding the proxy of House Black for the Wizengamot." It wouldn't surprise him if they had already guessed the parts of this that they didn't know but he wanted it to be clear.

"We had thought so," Remus stated, his flat voice not giving away their thoughts on the matter, "and Horace Slughorn as the Potter proxy, presumably an advisor as well." It was impossible to mistake the disdain in his voice. Harry was already well aware neither man would enjoy working with Horace, he doubted they had any love lost for Cyrus either.

"He is," Harry affirmed, not caring about the matching scowls the two older men reacted with, "he is also my main political advisor, though with Patrice Delacour joining, I'm sure he'll contribute on the political side too." Harry knew throwing in the Delacour name would ebb some of the loathing they had for Horace, no doubt Dumbledore had told them about his association with the two men, as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, he was privy to far more info than they would be.

"Greengrass, Slughorn and Patrice are your advisors?" Sirius asked, hurt flashing in his eyes.

Harry nodded. "With you as a person of interest, any official association we had could come back to bite us. Imagine if you had been captured and interrogated before they gave you the kiss…" Harry let the idea sink in, it would have been a political nightmare and possibly skewered the sum total of public goodwill he had accumulated. "With proper legal representation you were always going to get out and now that we know it is this week, here I am, asking." Harry wasn't going to let them guilt trip him in any sort of way..

"Fair point," Sirius acceded, "but still, Sluggy and Greengrass? You could have come here anytime and asked us for advice."

"Do you not trust us, Harry?" Remus asked quietly, his dull eyes finding Harry's part way through his question.

That was the crux of it, wasn't it? If he was being honest with himself, he would say he trusted his chosen three more than the two of them. What had they done that would show them to be so successful?

Sirius hadn't amounted to anything special, even before his rash actions led to his unjust incarceration. He'd admitted to living off his Uncle Alphard's inheritance and joining Dumbledore's vigilante organization right out of Hogwarts. The most successful accomplishment of Remus career, that Harry was aware of, was his stint as the DADA professor at Hogwarts. Both of their experiences with Dumbledore's Order would be beneficial, with all of his advisors lacking actual experience in the last war, even if they had been losing quite badly.

"Are either of you experts in finance? Have either of you had extensive experience in politics and know all the major players, hidden allegiances, and if they have skeletons in their closet?" Harry knew he couldn't be blunt with his true thoughts here. Instead, he riposted their guilt trip by pointing out their lack of qualifications.

"No, but there is a lot more than just money and politics, Harry. You need good role models and people that will guide you in a good direction, especially with You-Know-Who still out there." Remus calmly responded.

"There is," Harry agreed, "and I've been coming here and talking to you guys, others too."

"You have…" Sirius started out, his voice betraying that he didn't completely agree with what he was saying, "but we don't know much of what's been going on with you."

Harry arched his eyebrow, not in challenge that the statement was patently incorrect, more so he could get a response on what they knew about, or, perhaps, more accurately, what Dumbledore knew about.

"We don't know who your tutor is, we've heard you are engaging in marriage contract negotiations with the Delacours, possibly the Pavlov family, you've been doing rituals, you've got something going on with the ministry and who knows what else?" Sirius threw his hands up in frustration.

Harry remained calm and worked through the list in his head before he responded at all. "I don't discuss the identity of my without an Unbreakable Vow. That's just non-negotiable." He didn't care if anyone didn't like it, that secret was never getting out. He already saw what just being outed as a Parseltongue had caused for his public perception.

"I can't comment on any kind of contract negotiations, you should know there are always non-disclosure agreements in them. I can only comment again, if you have an Unbreakable Vow to not share my secrets without my permission, that's an example of one such clause that would allow me to discuss it with others in a standard agreement for marriage negotiations."

Harry expected they'd be able to pick up what he was saying between the lines. If they were smart they'd see this as his admittance he's involved in some kind of marriage contract negotiations.

"As for the ministry, I've really got nothing going on. I've played a part in getting an incompetent minister ousted but there's nothing else there."

"Harry, people don't just make Unbreakable Vows, we've been over this." Remus said, vehement at the very idea of it.

Harry shrugged. "I'm offering the opportunity to join in, but the vow is non negotiable." He used his free hand to pull out a scrap of parchment that had a copy of the vow. It was similar to what Cyrus and Horace had sworn but Ackerly had improved upon it.

"This is rather restrictive. Loyalty and keeping secrets, voluntarily and involuntarily?" Remus frowned and spoke with disapproval.

"This is really necessary?" Sirius asked, he didn't like it either but he wasn't immediately rejecting it either.

"I wouldn't ask for it if it wasn't." Was his simple reply. It wasn't on him now. It was their choice now.

"Not even during the war was this required…" Remus brought up softly. "Dumbledore didn't use it versus Grindelwald nor against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Harry rolled his eyes, they'd been over this ad nauseum. "I don't bloody well care what fucking _Dumbledore _did," Harry snapped, sneering the name, "I'm not losing anyone in my group to despicable traitors like Pettigrew."

Nothing was said in immediate response to Harry's words. Neither man was pleased and bringing up the issue that Harry was never going to budge on wasn't helping things. In the end, Harry decided to try a guilt tactic of his own, see if he could break the stalemate in their positions, he doubted it would be effective, but maybe it would be, for Sirius at the very least.

"Patrice, Apolline and Fleur Delacour, allies of House Potter, all had no problem with it. They obviously _trusted_ that my asking for an Unbreakable Vow was necessary." Harry was quiet as he thought about adding one final shot at Sirius, a final enticement that might bring him to Harry's side. He wanted to say it, he wanted to bring it up but he couldn't let the knowledge become public, he couldn't risk Remus telling Dumbledore and then Dumbledore making inquiries, no matter how discreet he may be.

Harry wasn't happy to use Regulus Black as a bargaining chip here, that he would swear and understand the importance, that he'd be more than willing, an advocate even, of the vow to protect the information. He gave his life to steal just one of Voldemort' horcruxes afterall. If he got Sirius on his own he could bring it up.

"None of them _had_ to get involved. But, they wanted to, they are putting their family in the line of fire just to support mine, me." Let them feel the full effects of a guilt trip. If they were going to use that kind of garbage on him then he'd hit them right back in the feels.

He almost smirked when he saw Remus and Sirius shift uncomfortably in their seats, their eyes meeting and neither immediately having a good answer to that. Harry watched the two of them, scrutinizing for anything he could glean.

"It's just backwards, Harry. It's frustrating," Sirius spoke up again after his eye conversation was done with Remus. "We are supposed to be protecting you, guiding you and not be swearing to keep your secrets, not swearing allegiance to you. It just feels wrong."

Harry could see the emotion in Sirius' eyes. "I've given you guys the option. Take it or don't. You know the terms." Harry summoned the piece of parchment back to him and quickly lit it on fire. Sadly it wasn't dragon fire, the type of fire he'd been working on being able to conjure on his own without success.

He expected they wouldn't join, he hoped Sirius would but he actually wondered just how with it Sirius was. He spent a decade in Azkaban and didn't appear to be a well adjusted adult. Harry thought his mind was affected far more than his malnourished and thin body.

'Talk it over with Dumbledore, see if he'll let you.' He wanted to say it, Harry wanted to bait them. He was sour over them siding with the same leader that _failed_ in the last war. The same one that left Sirius to rot and did nothing for werewolf rights. Given his age, Harry could understand it, to some degree, and this led to it being disappointment, not anger, that his father's friends weren't fully on board with his plans.

But a scathing remark like that wouldn't be productive. At some point things may well get ugly between them but he didn't need to be the cause of that, not now at least.

"Anything interesting we can talk about?" Sirius asked, and the sudden change in his demeanor, to mischievous humor, wasn't going to bode well for him, Harry thought. "Any girls on the go? A French flower, or the lovely Minister's niece, Bones women were always so shapely?" He squeezed the air in front of his chest while wiggling his eyebrows. Harry's eyebrows shot toward his hairline in surprise, not expecting Sirius to be commenting on physical attributes of his yearmates.

"I thought he would go for a quidditch girl," Remus began, quickly picking up after Sirius, "Katie Bell is just a year older and quite comely." He teased the youngest man in the room, though Harry thought it was a rather clumsy attempt.

"Comely? Really? You go with that?" Harry questioned the word choice. "Not fit brunette with a shapely arse?"

Sirius guffawed and then immediately began laughing, looking at his choked up and red faced friend, the massive unprentant grin on Harry's face didn't help matters.

"I was her _professor!"_ Remus squaked indignantly, his wand blurring into his hands and a stinging hex hitting Sirius with a stinging hex while the man was too busy laughing to have seen it coming.

"Ow!" Sirius exclaimed, rubbing the spot he was hit, his dominant hand grabbing his wand and spells flew from it.

Harry couldn't help but laugh as he watched the two men break out into a miniature spell battle, their wands whizzing and whirling, prank spells, shields and hilarity ensuing.

"Children," Harry called out, "children, children! You know the rules! No spell fighting in the house! Shame! Shame on you!" Harry's wand slid into his hand even as both of his were on his hips and he was glaring at the two men, as if he was the parent and they the unruly teenage marauders they once were.

Without even glancing at each other they two of them began to fire spells at him in perfect synchronicity. Harry grinned, he was ready for this and leaped into action. His sudden springing to the left made both of the initial spells miss, the following two as well.

His wand had been busy and two spells had already left it, targeting a marauder with each slash, neither spell meant to actually incapacitate them. This was something he'd been working on with Flitwick, each motion of the wand was deceptive, he'd used two larger flashier spells, designed to attract their focus. The obvious spell on the downward jab and the upward slash slid in a silent transfiguration, mixing his spell selection and attack pattern, befuddling his opponents.

Harry neatly shielded two spells, dodged one with a half turn of his body and swatted another that Remus tried to tag him with when he dodged out of the first one. Harry's face split into a grin, this was over. The bottom of the couch shot out and swept the feet of both marauders and the couch suddenly opened up, the cushions shooting upward, opening a space for the two to be swallowed by the couch.

Harry laughed loudly but knew both men wouldn't be kept in there overlong. He didn't feel like getting into a prolonged duel of any sorts, they'd underestimated him, not knowing of his massively increased skill with spellcasting. With a silent command he called upon his trump card. Cuddles let her warm perch and flew to his outstretched hand.

He _almost _felt bad, using Cuddles was kind of cheating but he wasn't going to turn down an automatic win right now. He channelled magic into his familiar and allowed her to be the size of a pony, her gaping maw ready to terrify, or charcoal, them.

Harry felt the magic of the couch shift, no longer under his control and the two men were ejected from the couch, tumbling in a heap almost right into Cuddles' jaw.

"We done?" Harry asked, challenging them when Cuddles warm breath was puffing across their faces.

"You can't just use the bloody dragon everytime you want to win against us!" Sirius whined petulantly, he was beginning to climb back to his feet.

Harry flicked his wrist and his wand was stowed away, he sat down before responding to his godfather's complaint. "Well, when you get your own dragon we can talk about it, until then, all is fair in love and war."

"_Love_ and war?" Sirius questioned, mischief flashing in his eyes, "Just the topic you've avoided. So, Harry," he leaned forward, salacious with his inquiry, "We know you've spent time with Fleur, Natalia and confirmed rumors reached us that you've spent much of your Hogwarts appearances in the company of the three chasers on your house team and with three yearmates in Hufflepuff. So, spill."

"Getting reports about me?" Harry questioned, scowling at the two men.

"Of course! You never tell us anything and we do want to know what you are up to, you attract trouble worse than we ever did!" Sirius retorted, and even though there was a seriousness to his inquiry, it was also facetious and sarcastic.

Not seeing the issue with talking about it, he didn't mind getting somewhat of an opinion on his traction with more than one girl at a time. "Fleur and I get along really well and our relationship deepened really quickly, probably the fault of the task where we almost died together." Harry said, his face pensive as he thought about that in more detail.

"You've gotten somewhere with her?" The hopeful tone was palpable and Harry didn't miss Remus' look of approval, of the three girls, no doubt the preferred choice would be Fleur, heiress of a Light sided family.

Harry shrugged, not wanting to give away how physical things had gotten. "Yeah, we just seem to click, and she helped me with some research and such. I really like her family and we just get along." He tried to feign nonchalance but Sirius wasn't having it.

"Moony, I know that face." He said, critically eyeing Harry. "That's not just a snogging face"

"James had that same look, when he was past first base, that faux innocent look with the slightest hint of a fond grin that he couldn't quite keep from showing through, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. You know the one I'm talking about, yeah?" Remus was smiling and lightly elbowed Sirius when he questioned if he agreed.

Sirius hummed in agreement, "But you saw the tug on the corners of his mouth that he couldn't pull down? I remember that…" Sirius gazed off in fond remembrance, "Prongs only had that after he and Lils were rather…" He tapped his chin with his finger in an exaggerated manner as he deliberately took time to come up with the right word, "..._frisky_." Sirius had finally decided and waggled his eyebrows as he'd said it. "The first time I ever saw something like that was..."

Sirius trailed off and Remus picked up his train of thought, "You mean when he bolted out of the broom closet, racing to get away from McGonagall, and left her even though they were on first base?" Remus arched his eyebrow, seeking clarification from his friend?

"What? Who's on first?" Harry asked, perplexed by what they were talking about.

"No, I think it was second base, I mean, he couldn't stop staring the next day, didn't wash his hands for a couple days too." Sirius smiled, with his head tilted to the right, his hand rubbing his chin in thought.

"What's on second?" Harry questioned, starting to get annoyed at not understanding what is going on and why second base would require his dad to not wash your hands for a couple days.

"Didn't he get to third with her?" Remus asked, his eyes squinting as he struggled to recall something from his past.

"No…" Sirius disagreed slowly, "you're thinking of Becky," he trailed off vocally but was making obscene gestures with his hands.

"Oh Merlin, who's on first, what's on second and I don't care on third, I don't want to hear anything more about my dad and his dating life, before, or with mum!" Harry said, half outraged and half disgusted by what the two men were casually discussing in front of him.

"Right!" Sirius clapped his hands together, "We should be talking about your dating life, not Prongs'," he stated gleefully, rubbing his hands together, a manic look in his eye.

"If you two can be serious for a second I will tell you about it." He almost groaned audibly when he saw Sirius' mouth opening. Thankfully, Remus knew what terrible joke was coming and elbowed him before the words could escape his lips.

"No." Harry commanded, as if he was a domineering alpha talking to a pet.

Sirius pouted and let out a whine. "Fine." He groused, his arms folding across his chest, his bottom lip still protruded.

"Well, to be blunt, I'm kind of dating Fleur and Natalia, Daphne seems interested too."

Sirius had smiled at the first one, a large grin, his eyes had widened at the second name and they damn near popped out of his head when Harry mentioned the third. "Th- th- three… at once…?" Sirius was in awe of his godson.

Remus, on the other hand, was far less approving, "Do they know you are with the other girls as well?" He asked, a little of his disdain leaking into his question.

"Yes.. mostly." Harry added the last qualifier. He and Fleur had never talked directly that he wasn't seeing or talking to Natalia anymore, in fact they hadn't defined anything at all that way. They both felt strongly for each other and had kind of just gone along with that.

"Mostly?" Remus questioned with disapproval. "That doesn't sound very sure." He commented, awaiting Harry to explain

Harry shrugged. "It's complicated and I can't actually explain everything to you two."

"You're in marital negotiations with more than one family?" Remus asked, trying to get some kind of information.

"No...not really." He admitted in reply.

"I can fulfill an outstanding contract with Daphne, if I so choose," Harry assumed Sirius was aware, as the former heir to the Black family, "and I had declined the original contract the Pavlov family had offered."

"So you are getting physical with Fleur, still seeing Natalia and thinking about Daphne?" Remus summarized.

Harry gave a curt nod.

"Wow! Even I never got more than two at once! Fourteen and three at once…" He whistled in appreciation, lauding it as quite the accomplishment. "And here we were, all worried you'd need the Marauders' Guide to women." He shook his head, a large grin splitting his face, "Lils might kill you but Prongs would be an insufferable braggart over his son, the ladies man."

"Are you sure it's a good avenue to pursue?" Remus said, ignoring the jubilant man beside him.

"Not particularly, no." Harry admitted honestly while he went back to petting Cuddles who had decided to sink into his lap, after being shrunken down.

"Then why do it?" Remus followed up, right away, sounding perplexed.

"Don't say it was Sluggy's idea." Sirius threw in before Harry could get around to formulating a reply.

"No," Harry laughed, "he recommended five, not three."

"Five!" Sirius exclaimed. Harry wasn't sure if he was horrified, or envious of the idea.

Remus was far more calm and more interested in the logical, as his question revolved around it, "Why so many? To replenish the family numbers as quickly as possible and build a political power bloc?"

"Sure, that was the thinking." It was a plan Harry had refused to go down, at least for now. It wouldn't be secret if he started announcing betrothals and he doubted even the negotiations would be quiet, if they came to fruition.

"Are you starting with three then?"

"Who knows what the future holds," Harry shrugged, "I thought I was going to be watching a tournament this year and attending Hogwarts." It was becoming quite fun to not fully answer questions, he could see the short answers were annoying Remus. Harry didn't want to explain his actual plan, he wanted to keep Dumbledore away from it.

"Threesome," Sirius said, pointing out his middle finger, "foursome," he moved onto his ring finger, "fivesome? …Quadsome quintisome? ...No, that doesn't sound right. Foursome then orgy?" He seemed to shake himself out of his mutterings and he looked to Remus.

"Does five girls become an orgy? Or do you just call it a harem?" He frowned in question, not having paid attention to what was being said.

"It'd be an orgy if there are three or more women having sex with him at the same time, a harem when he's married to three or more women." Remus answered in a way that was highly reminiscent of him responding to questions when he was a DADA professor.

Harry started cackling, the deadpanned response from Remus was too much for him. His cackling quickly gave away to full blown belly laughter. If he kept it up for too long he'd be wiping tears from his eyes.

Remus coughed, while Harry was laughing, and Sirius was being sheepish.

"What? You dream about two, maybe three, girls at once. What bloke thinks he might be with more than three at once? Prongs and I joked about two and three, but four and five? Nope, no way."

Sirius' comment didn't help Harry at all, it intensified his fit of laughter.

"What, it's true," he said to Remus, who was facepalming and muttering unintelligibly into his hand.

Harry just threw his head back and laughed more, how things degraded to this, he wouldn't be able to figure it out at all.

It was great hanging out with Sirius and Remus, they were always good for a laugh, but in the back of his head he knew what their failure to swear the Unbreakable Vow meant. He was putting together a council and they weren't willing to do what was necessary to join in. He could love them like crazy uncles but he couldn't wait around forever. Things were happening and he couldn't keep waiting on them. If they were willing later, Harry could consider it then. For now though, it was time to move on without them, he'd given them multiple opportunities and they hadn't taken them.

Harry would enjoy the time he spent with them, and how could he not with how egregiously entertaining they were, but he could no longer stall his plans, hoping they'd join him.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"I'd like a favor from you." Harry said after shutting the runes text he had been working through in the Chamber.

"A favor? From little ol' me?" Daphne asked, a teasing lilt to her voice, as she looked up from the book she was reading, another ritual book.

"Yes. One that will be a good bit of work and something I can't do without drawing attention right now." Harry said. If he didn't have her attention before he sure had it now.

"And what do I get for doing this 'good bit of work' for you, hmm?" She raised her delicate eyebrow, though Harry could see there was some humor in her eyes as well, even with her crossing her sculpted legs. Damn his eyes for following them, she was totally doing this on purpose, dressed in a skirt with smooth bare legs today. He didn't want to think about how it was hiked up a bit while she was sitting in the chair.

Harry tore his eyes away before responding, "What would you want?" He questioned, hoping she wouldn't ask for something he wasn't willing to give.

"Let's hear the task first." She said, either buying time to rack her brain for something or to find out how much leverage she was working with. Harry assumed it was the latter.

"You may wish to do it for its own reward." Harry told her. If someone asked him to do this he'd do it without recompense.

"Oh?" She questioned, her eyes narrowing and he could tell her full attention was on him, she was highly intrigued now.

"The Chamber of Secrets is a place Salazar Slytherin built. I've read Salazar's writings and he references an impressive 'runic room' that Rowena Ravenclaw had done…" Harry could see Daphne nod along to that, so she was obviously somewhat aware. "I checked in the library and the room isn't really mentioned anywhere."

"It's not. The room was used while she was alive. The records tell us that after her daughter died and her diadem was stolen from it she hid the room, not allowing free access to it any longer."

"I see…" Harry said quietly. This might be a whole lot more challenging than he'd thought. Nevertheless, he wanted to give it a shot.

"I'd like you to find it." Harry told her, completely serious.

Daphne gave an exaggerated nod. "Oh sure. I'll just go right up out of here and find it within the hour. It's not like there has been countless hours spent searching for it over the _centuries _since." She responded, her voice drenched in sarcasm. "Were you going to give me one hour or two, milord?"

Harry dropped his head into his hand. This was really important. He could spend hours under his cloak trying to look but he was already overloaded. He'd considered asking Fleur but she was a foreign student and her searching for it would draw attention. Daphne was the only student in his close knit group now, she could search in a far less circumspect manner than anyone else.

"Did you want me to bring back her long lost diadem while I'm at it?" She asked with scathing sarcasm.

Harry threw up his hands and let some of his annoyance come through in his tone, "Look, I think Riddle could have found it and he _might_ have hidden something _really_ important there." Harry didn't think that Voldemort could actually get back into the Chamber if he tried. He wasn't certain of that but it was an educated guess. If Voldemort could have gotten in himself why wouldn't he have used the Basilisk to aid him to kill Dumbledore.

A snake that would kill with a glare, one that Dumbledore would have no knowledge of, would be beyond deadly. Dumbledore would come prepared for a duel with Riddle and die before he knew what happened, unless he fluked out and glimpsed a part of the snake, recognized it and then got away from it.

Honestly, he could have gotten Dumbledore to capitulate just by threatening to set the snake onto the students. He doubted the mad man would care if he killed the children of his followers, a monster like him would probably comment that they could always replace them.

It was the lack of utilizing the basilisk, or even just the Chamber as a resource, that led him to this belief. His horcrux was able to bring Ginny down but she couldn't get past the blood lock on the entry into Salazar's private domain, just the parseltongue locked entrance and doors.

Harry still wasn't certain _how_ the Chamber operated as it did but he spent an awful amount of time dwelling on it. He even brought in Natalia partly to see how she would react. He didn't let her see that it was Hogwarts but she would be able to figure it out. It's not like the halls were perfectly silent, not the entire way into the chamber. Even once she was inside, there might be enough clues to put it together.

Harry wanted additional data points to consider and trusted that the Chamber would be able to protect its secret, it had done so for centuries.

"Look, I don't expect this will be easy, nor that it is even something you might be able to accomplish. I'll help when I can but I don't attend Hogwarts. It's not like I can search for it by myself so easily." Harry told her, his earlier annoyance gone but some frustration leaked out into his words, not at Daphne but about the situation in general.

"I'll search." Daphne said, her eyes meeting his, "I'll do my best but I want something for my time, even if it is a fruitless time."

Harry didn't respond, he'd let Daphne tell him what she wanted before he commented. He gestured with his hand for her to go on.

"I want to see you perform your rituals." She told him, some steel in her voice.

Huh, that wasn't what Harry would have guessed. He thought it might be more towards her angling for him to agree to the contract. Harry took a minute to think it over, his face not betraying any emotion as he considered the request.

He didn't have too many left and Harry wasn't sure if she would be able to view them, maybe the chamber wouldn't even let her…

"Alright… I can agree to that with some of my own terms," he replied after he'd come to a conclusion on her request.

"And they are?" She asked, not overly pleased with him countering but still giving her companion a chance to name them before she reacted fully.

"First of all I can't guarantee you'll be able to," Harry told her.

"Why not?" She grit out, annoyed with his response.

"Look, this place has a mind of its own. Your access to the books is rather limited and I can't guarantee it won't do something to block it." Harry explained his first term, thinking it was reasonable. He didn't want to agree and then admit he thought it may occur if she was prevented from seeing them, it felt like bargaining in bad faith.

It was Daphne that gestured for him to continue this time.

"Secondly, another vow that is more explicit to you not using _anything_ of what you see to be communicated, reproduced, or recorded in any manner."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I've already sworn that for the Chamber."

"Then swearing it again shouldn't be an issue." Harry replied with false cheer, he didn't think it was necessary but why not do it again, he'd make the wording specific to rituals, with Ackerly drawing it up.

"Fine." She agreed with his logic but didn't look pleased as she crossed her arms over her chest as her one leg lifted off the other.

"Third, you can't interfere in anyway." He quickly continued before Daphne could say anything, "Yes, yes, I know you know better than to mess with rituals, but I still want it a term you agree to."

Daphne huffed, "As if I'd dare." She said with childish indignity.

"Glad we agree then." Harry told her. "I'll have the vow ready before the next ritual."

She nodded, Daphne was already aware he was completing rituals on the 3rd and 7th days of the week. She spent as much time down here as their schedules and Harry allowed.

"Any ideas on where to start or any clues you can give me?" Daphne asked, a hopeful undertone in her voice.

Harry pursed his lips as he considered telling her about the Marauder's Map. He let out a heavy breath, it was obvious he should.

"Dobby" He called out and his elf appeared with a loud pop. "Can you get the map for me, please?"

Dobby didn't respond, he vanished and reappeared after just a moment with the map in hand. He quickly disappeared afterwards. Harry was glad he was busy assisting Kreacher so he didn't respond and break out in reverence for Harry.

"I'll let you use this when you are here with me. I use it and won't let you take it out of here without permission." Harry laid out his terms in a stern manner.

Daphne stood and made her way over to him, daintily balancing herself on the armrest of his char as she looked over his shoulder at the blank parchment in front of him.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Harry spoke the password. "This is an heirloom, one of the few possessions of my father's that have been left to me. Handle it with care."

Daphne gasped when the map came to life and showed all the castle inhabitants. "This is real and accurate?" She asked breathlessly.

"Yes."

"May I?" She asked, her hand reaching toward the edge of the map. Harry pushed the map toward her and let her take hold of it. Her eyes roamed across the map, back and forth as she studied it. "This...this is amazing."

"I know." Harry replied simply. "I've not found any evidence of it on the map. I've studied it and can't find any clues. Maybe you can do better than I." He hoped she would.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Stunner" Harry called out, dropping his right foot back a few inches, allowing his hip to follow his foot, and resulting in the spell narrowly missing his upper body.

As he half stepped back into a ready position, he felt another spell flying towards him. With his eyes still shut, he tried to predict its trajectory. It was coming for his head, just off his left ear, provided he bent his neck and pulled his head out of the way. "Leg locker." He called out the spell as it whizzed past his head.

He smirked as he felt two spells coming heading in two different directions, this was a more recent addition to his training with Flitwick. At first, they started with just trying to identify spells as a single exercise. A second exercise was dodging spells with a primary focus on economy of movement, the less he moved, the better. Over time he had grown into dodging spells with his eyes shut, learning to feel his surroundings. Flitwick had told him he shouldn't have to see a spell to dodge it. He needed to become attuned to magic around him, many traps were set up that were latent.

One of the first ways he'd demonstrated it was shooting water at him, having Harry dodge it, then as he went to land he'd charmed it into ice. The slippery surface made him slip, attempting to land on his feet, and he'd taken a hard tumble. The diminutive professor explained he should have been able to feel the build up of magic and counter it, by either neutralizing its effects or vanishing it entirely.

This had led to the next progression, dodging spells without sight. Harry had to concentrate on the magic coming at him and learn to dodge it by feeling alone. Once he had this mastered, it would be an incredible skill to have. Getting the drop on Harry Potter would no longer be possible. Learning this though…not so fun. Getting spells shot at you that you couldn't see meant he got hit a lot. Flitwick mostly used mild charms at first but now he was adding in things that were more costly.

Just after Harry had weaved around the two spells Flitwick called it off. "Good, good, Mister Potter." He praised, his joy in teaching was evident.

Harry smiled at the praise, he really felt he was learning quickly. The tutelage of Flitwick and McGonagall was doing wonders for his abilities with a wand. The hours he was sinking into their instruction were well spent. They sent him books from their personal collections for him to study and know. In many ways, this was like a condensed mastery program. Instead of spending horrendous amounts of time researching and writing papers, he was just learning and doing. It felt like he was auditing the course, getting as much out of it as he put into it, and Harry was doing everything asked of him and more.

"I'd like to show you the final progression on the skill I am teaching you," the professor said, drawing his wand and holding it in front of his body. The two of them were about fifteen feet away from each other now and Harry couldn't help the excitement and curiosity bubbling within him at hearing that.

"Do you need me to do something, sir?" Harry found the dichotomy of the lessons from his two former professors to be interesting. McGonagall had always been so proper and using her first name while working with her in his private instruction felt odd. Whereas the more laid back, in the classes he had attended previously, Flitwick had wanted to keep things on a professional level, he would have guessed the opposite.

"Fire spells at me, don't worry about the spell selection nor the speed at which you do so. In fact, it may be a better demonstration if you vary your selection and try and tag me as quickly as possible," he told him, though Harry didn't understand why that was a little bit funny, as the manner in which he explained what he wanted had some unhidden amusement.

Harry shrugged internally and prepared himself. "Ready, sir?"

"Go until I call for you to stop. Start anytime."

Harry nodded and decided he'd not go all out.

He began with his most trusty spell, the piercing hex. Aiming the first one just to the side of Flitwick, he didn't think it would hit, the man was a former duelling champion, but he didn't want to risk the first spell slipping through and him ending up killing a professor.

Harry watched as Flitwick pushed the tip of his wand toward the spell and when it came into contact with the wand Harry expected it would destroy the wand.

It didn't.

In fact Harry stopped casting as he was amazed at what happened to his spell. It was closing the distance on and just as it reached the professor it was gone. He'd heard about this but he'd never seen it. The casualness of the display was astounding.

"Tut tut. Just the one spell? Tired already?"

Harry heard his professors voice and he chuckled. The diminutive professor was playfully mocking him! Flitwick taunting him, squeaky voice and all!

"No, sir." He answered and decided holding back wasn't happening now.

Harry let his wand blur, he kept to his sole spell as he tried to use speed and precision to test the limits of his professor. The man was making it easy, he stood still and only moved his wand arm to position his wand to intercept and make his spells die off before reaching their target.

No matter how quickly Harry fired, each spell was being intercepted.

Well, if that was how it was going to be he'd up the ante again.

Harry let an inferno release from his wand, a stream of blazing heat left his wand and went on its way to burn his professor to a crisp. No dice, the fire was extinguished as it reached towards his professor.

Harry kept up his spellfire, mixing in all manners of charms, hexes and jinxes. He varied the spells leaving his wand, blasting curses, piercing hex, banishing charms. No matter what he tried nothing was getting through.

That wasn't going to do. He could see the grin on the smaller man's face mocking him. He was getting immense satisfaction from making Harry's attempts to maim and kill him futile.

Transfiguration was now entering into his spell repertoire. Conjuring small hard balls and banishing them. Transfiguring the desks and chairs on the that had been previously cleared to the outer walls into animals and various other things to attempt to catch his professor off guard.

Harry sent three successive blasting curses at the professor just as two of his attack dogs were reaching the professor. If this didn't make him dodge or sweat nothing in his spell selection would.

Harry watched as an almost colorless stream of magic shot out of his wand, intercepting the three blasing curses, nullifying them on contact, all of the magic dissipating harmlessly. One dog was already mid jump and with a single tap of his wand, on the dog's nose, it immediately returned to being a chair, the second one being tapped by the wand and returning it to the desk it had been before Harry had used magic on it.

"That's enough." Flitwick intoned, not that Harry had kept up. He could feel drips of sweat working their way down his face. He'd been physically active and now had just expended a great deal of magical energy in his attacks as well.

"That is what made me into a dueling champion. It is my personal style," the Head of House Ravenclaw told him.

"It's really impressive." Harry told him sincerely. He wished he could watch himself attack his instructor, it would have been amazing to see.

"Thanks. It is something I hope to begin to teach you but I do have to question one thing."

Harry narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what he would ask but was unable to come up with something.

"Your spell selection is what I took note of." Harry was informed, causing him to frown. He knew his range of spells wasn't as great as he'd like. He didn't have any real game changers that could overwhelm a group, nothing like he'd seen the way Grindelwald created a deadly storm or how Dumbledore animated massive monstrosities that were almost impregnable.

"I know it's nothing special, sir. I'm trying to improve and vary it but I've been focused on completing the curriculum for NEWTs at the moment." He dipped his chin towards his chest as he hung his head, Harry didn't like disappointing his tutors.

"That's not it at all," the charms professor explained, "no, not at all, Mister Potter." Harry wasn't sure what to make of that. His limited selection was all that he could think of.

"It's that your spells were all of a specific nature." That confused Harry even more. He'd used fire, he'd sent streams of water, he'd transfigured creatures and he didn't think he'd been too reliant on a single nature of spells.

"I wondered if you would notice, and it appears not." There was no disappointment or reproach in his tone, which allayed Harry's worries to a little.

"Your spells are all of a lethal nature. If any of them had connected the would have had a strong possibility of death without immediate medical attention." Flitwick chuckled as the pupil pinked in his cheeks. "Not to worry though, I did tell you to throw everything you had at me." He kept his tone lighthearted and good natured.

"Sorry sir, I didn't mean to do that."

"Again, it's not a problem, more a curiosity. It tells me that whomever has been tutoring you is preparing you more for fighting, not duelling."

At first Harry was worried what the professor might glean but really it should have been obvious. His go-to spell was meant for dispatching his opponents, putting them down hard and fast. Salazar wasn't a proponent of playing with your foe or dragging things on, let others showboat and if they attempt to do it to you take advantage of their tactical misstep.

"Your improvement has been nothing short of astounding, I've spoken with Professor McGonagall and she is of the same opinion." Flitwick closed the distance and conjured two chairs that were facing each other. "I had expected you would require years of training before you could enter the circuit but you may be ready before the year is over."

Harry blinked and ran his hand through his hair. "The duelling circuit?" Harry understood that there was a duelling circuit but it had mostly been an abstract thing.

"Yes, though your spell selection would be entirely inappropriate. Duels are won by incapacitation, not death and critical injury." Flitwick said, with somewhat of a sigh. "Are you interested in competing in the circuit?"

"Perhaps, I'm really enjoying our lessons and the skills I've gained have more value than just duelling." Harry understated, really, just learning to sense the magic around him and to be able to dodge just by it was unbelievable. He was beginning to feel what Flitwick talked about as the duelling skills would transfer over to other areas, this would help him beyond just battle situations too. Just this morning, he was able to feel the runic clusters he powered up and get a sense that he was doing things correct, just because it _felt _correct.

"I didn't think you'd be able to neutralize spells, if I'm being honest. You're remarkably advanced, impossibly so, when it comes to sensing magic. Though I still do not expect you'd be able to be a successor to myself, I believe I can teach you to utilize parts of my style, a hybrid version to compliment your own natural talents." Harry understood this was a rather serious offer. Just using the word successor was more than ample evidence.

"What would that involve?" Harry asked carefully, buying time to consider the ramifications of what he'd just been asked as well as trying to ensure he understood the whole picture here.

"We'd accelerate your training. I'm aware you already do exercises, however, I'd need to monopolize more of your time. Four hours at minimum, six would be preferable, eight or more if you can swing it."

Harry dropped his head back, letting his eyes stare up at the roof. He took a couple deep breaths and considered it, really considered it. Entering the duelling circuit, after the tournament would give him something to do next year. He was going to be done Hogwarts' NEWT curriculum.

"This would begin after the tournament?" He questioned, being careful to not give away anything as of yet.

"It would." Flitwick gave a curt reply.

Harry nodded, "Do I have some time to consider this?"

"You do." The short reply left it unsaid that he did not have long to reply with a positive answer. Harry was willing to bet this entire teaching method was geared more towards testing if he was going to be the first possible student of the former duelling champion or whether he wouldn't make this offer.

"What kind of style would you think it would mesh well with for me?" Harry asked, changing subjects by circling back to the earlier point of adding it into wherever his natural talent laid.

"I'm not certain as of yet. We haven't explored the depths of your abilities enough for me to know for certain, not after your rapid growth."

"Did you think you had me pegged before this year?" Harry asked, the way he had avoided answering led Harry to believe this was the case.

"Not for sure, no." Flitwick said, rubbing his forefinger and thumb together in a slow deliberate motion. "I would have leaned towards power but it was too early to say if it would be viable against top tier talents, teenagers don't have their full magical capacity yet."

Harry quirked his head, "You don't think I'd be capable of using a power style?" From what he comprehended of the rituals, he should be swimming in magical capacity now.

Flitwick chuckled. "Capable, yes… but is it making the best of your innate talents? That I cannot be sure of quite yet, Mister Potter."

"Would Dumbledore be considered a transfiguration and Grindelwald charms for their primary styles?" Harry asked, edging forward in his seat in anticipation.

"Yes, as the overall branch of magic they preferred. Both generally used their specialty. Albus was known for animating defensive behemoths that would shield and tank every attack his opponents would throw at them. While they concentrated on the colossal constructs, he would disable the combatant. That was the gist of his standard strategy," the words were delivered flatly, Harry assumed this was business as usual when breaking down opponents strategies in duelling.

Unaware of Harry's musings, Flitwick went on to explain Grindelwald. "Charms is a highly diverse branch of magic, as we well know." He chuckled lightly, as if it was somewhat humorous, and then continued his explanation, "Gellert Grindelwald's strategies were far more complex. He'd overpower opponents, he'd turn their own magic and strategies against them. He'd often humiliate or take down his opponent in such a fashion that he'd be proving he was not only more skilled with a wand but that his mind and tactics were superior as well."

He paused and frowned before adding another thought, "He wasn't satisfied with just winning, Grindelwald wanted to make it clear he was superior in every way, that he was beyond them. The duelling circuit is where he grew his legend and many feel it was the basis for his belief that he could conquer Magical Europe."

Harry could see how that would feed an ego. Being such a young champion and decimating your opponents in such a way that there was no doubt to your superiority. He could already see how Grindelwald and Voldemort would have gotten on. Riddle would spew out his line of power being all that matters and Grindelwald would agree. It would eventually lead to a blow out between the two of them, as neither of them would truly acknowledge that they are equals and, thus, would then battle for supremacy.

"Were there other people that utilized a power style, and what are the positive and negative aspects of the style?" Harry asked with unbridled curiosity jumping out of his words.

Flitwick chuckled, aging, this time at his enthusiasm. "The most glaring weakness of the style is that if you run into anyone that can match, or surpass, your power then you face a battle on skill and tactics, normally where those using the power style lack proficiency. Secondly, if the opposing duelist can defend themselves, expending less energy to do so, they can outlast them as nobody can blast magic intensive spells forever."

That was certainly true. Was power a shortcut for skill then? The derision in his tone suggested it was but it was slight, or maybe he was reading more into it than was there.

"The strengths of the style are really twofold. Overpowering opponents is normally fast. The person is either able to stand up to the barrage of power or they are not. Near the end of tournaments, where you only have the best left, that doesn't always hold true however," Flitwick's eyes went up and to the left, his chin mildly following the motion, as he gazed off in thought.

After a moment of silence, where the professor hadn't continued on to the second point, Harry spoke up, bringing his focus back to the conversation. "And the second benefit of the style, sir?"

"Right, yes." He said, blinking rapidly and getting a hold of himself, "Yes, the, benefit, and the reason many choose this path, is that power can overwhelm skill."

"How so?" Harry asked right away, even though he had an idea of how, Harry wanted to hear what the professor thought.

"After, or another time, if not tonight." The half goblin responded laughing softly as Harry's face didn't hide the disappointment he felt. "I thought you might want to hear about the most recent embodiment of the style, and whom it was that exemplified the epitome of the power style." Flitwick added with amusement, fully capturing Harry's attention and simultaneously washing away any displeasure he had for the delay.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you guessed the person, he used his power abominably and most do not dare to speak his name, even to this day," though he had started out in a playful tone, Flitwick ended speaking with disgust.

Harry flinched when he put two and two together. "I see…" he bit out. It wasn't the topic that brought this reaction. It was _another_ comparison between him and Riddle. _The_ person who was the epitome of the style Flitwick had expected him to be was the villain Harry despised greatly, above all others. Harry could feel the churning in his stomach, the contempt for himself welling up within him.

"Most don't like hearing about the greatness of a man that destroyed so much, so many lives." Flitwick said softly, after a time, his voice delicate as he knew he'd hit on a sensitive subject.

Harry just nodded slowly, not wanting to correct the man on what was bothering him so greatly.

"You-Know-Who was a terrifying foe. He could shield your best spells, your most powerful attacks, shrugging them off like that were nothing. A simple flick of his wand and the front of your home was a gaping hole." He paused, swallowed, and shut his eyes for two full seconds before he took another breath.

"Just imagine it. The monster you've heard about, one that had been responsible for wiping out whole family lines that had been around for _centuries_, he rips down your wards, the ones you spent piles of gold to have erected, to prevent exactly _this_, and you try and run, you try and gather up whatever, _whoever_, you can and leave. Only, you can't. There are wards, wards _you_ can't break, preventing it."

Harry could well imagine the terror, the helplessness of the situation. He'd heard it, he'd seen it. James yelling at Lily to run, '_Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -'_. It hadn't been 'go, just in case I can't defeat him'. The thought never entered James Potter's head, it was always going to be futile.**

Harry's eyes were shut tight, he could hear it, the laughing. Riddle actually laughed, laughed at James Potter's, a man who had been Head Boy as well, attempt to stall him. Though he didn't see the green flash of the killing curse that took his father's life, he heard it, '_Avada Kedavra!'_

"You know you can't get away. You know the only chance is to fight your way out. But how do you stand up to a monster? Do you brandish your wand and throw your best at him, knowing full well you're throwing a bucket of water at the tsunami that is just about to wipe away your family, your home, your history? Or do you cower, you try and hide away and hope, against all reason, that he'll not take your life, or that he may be more merciful because you accepted your fate was sealed?"

"That, that was _power_." Flitwick said heavily with a low voice.

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was never in the circuits, his arsenal would have had him disqualified before the second spell. But there is no denying he would have blasted his way through the competition. Just like it was only Albus that could stand against him. It was only the most skilled wizard anyone alive had ever seen that could negate his power."

As horrifying as it was, it was equally impressive. Now that he thought about it, he realized nobody ever talked about how _skilled_ he was. It was always how terrifying he was, how knowledgeable he was in the Dark Arts, never on the achievements nor advances within a magical field that he came up with.

"I told you I thought power could be your style because it's about harnessing it, not about precision. There is no doubt that you were always powerful amongst your peers. What was in doubt, was your technical skills and drive to explore the bounds of your own abilities. Albus Dumbledore wouldn't be who he is without countless hours of study. Your parents wouldn't have been the Head Boy and Head Girl with the level of effort you had shown before this year."

The words were cutting, harsh and entirely honest. Flitwick wasn't reprimanding him, nor was he showing disappointment, the charms professor was just telling it like it is.

"I know you are powerful, enough to make it a viable strategy for yourself. But, what I have seen, is that you can be _more_, more than just power." Flitwick's eyes didn't leave his, as brutally honest as his words had just been, these were equally so.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> **quote directly from JKR's HP books.
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful beta's Nauze & Triage for all the hard work and hours to clean this up!
> 
> As always, feel free to join the Discord group setup, there's talk about the fic and HPFF in general, link on my profile.
> 
> Thanks to all those who read, bookmark, give kudos and comment!


	37. Bloom to Gloom

_There is an aspect of my life upon which I have erred greatly and it is one of utmost importance for young men: love and marriage. Love is where we should start. What is love?_

_Love is an action, a verb, a choice. Love is not some magical feeling that results upon finding some mythical soul mate. Love is not a feeling at all. It is a choice, an action. Kindness is a choice, an action. You choose to be kind, you act a specific way as to be kind, to those deserving of it and those who may not be deserving of it._

_Love is the same way. I married for love. I believed I had fallen in love with a beautiful woman. She was fetching, good natured, diligent, and tender hearted. I knew when I laid my eyes on her that I would have her as my wife. I believed my own self delusions, that it was love at first sight. It was no such thing, it was infatuation at first sight. How can you love what you do not know? How can you develop a deep connection that will stand the test of time? I tell you, you cannot._

_Like a seed, love begins as something small, something vulnerable and perishable. You must care for it, water it, provide nutrients and protect it. There are no gargantuan trees that did not start out as a seed or a sapling. I grew to love my wife, I grew to care for her more than any other who walked this earth and laid beneath the stars. Yet, as I look back, I can admit, it was a mistake to fall in love with her, to marry her._

_Her lineage brought no benefit to our union. If anything, her lineage brought a blight. I have since come to know that her sire is unstable. There is something within their magic that makes them so. Their family is not widely known and has always been reclusive. I had thought I had made one of the best decisions of my life, for once, by following my heart instead of my head. Not worrying about the power or prestige I could gain and instead acting for the purest of emotions, love._

_Oh, how I deluded myself. In time, I grew to truly love her and the child she bore. Yet, could I not have loved another? Would it be so hard to love another beautiful maiden? Could they not be just as lovely, as kind, as hardworking and a dutiful wife capable of being loved? I find, even though I do not, that I could have come to love Rowena. Intelligent beyond means, more than just fair to look at, and a friend that could plausibly have been more. It is the same for Helga, though I do not love her, I could well imagine a scenario where we were betrothed and grew into love._

_Why do I tell you this my heir? I tell you this so you learn from my errors. My wife was a Gaunt, a family who lacks stability. They are wrong in the head, loving then hating, kind then cruel, sane and then mad. I was infatuated and grew to love a good woman. Though, it is her family's nature that I believe partly responsible for what befell my son. Had I used my head, had I chosen better, I may have had an heir who could have been worthy of the position._

_I am not one who has lived life perfectly, in some cases, I did not even live aspects of it well. I had but a single son with my wife. I have had dalliances since her death and I suspect it possible I have other progeny. If I do, their mothers have not sought me out and by what right would I claim to do better, when it is known I took the life of my own son? No, heed my words. Do not let an infatuation lead you astray. Weigh the decision, ensure it is best for you, your future, your children and then choose to love them. If you love a woman, or women, as they should be loved, how could they not learn, in time, to love you as well? Having a wife of virtue, character, integrity and upstandingness, she would not repay love with malice, she would repay love with love._

_When you select a wife, be sure she is a maiden, unspoiled by any other. There are options for rituals, at the bottom of the page is a spell to confirm a potential match is unspoiled and eligible for virginity rituals. Though my library will have a score of options, ranging all the way to the most perverse and defiling repercussions that are an affront to magic itself, there are two that I would recommend for your consideration._

_The first is the one which is the most widely used of them all. Most Houses are concerned that when a daughter of another marries into their House, their allegiance would not change with their name. For this reason, it is the most common, though it would not be fair to claim it is common, even with arranged marriages. The ritual must be entered into willingly, by both parties, and it uses the symbolic act of a woman giving herself, the willing shedding of her own blood and accepting of himself into her, culminating in the giving of her physical, mental, magical and emotional selves._

_To do this, using the first ritual, is for the woman to bind herself to her new House, her new husband. Like all rituals, it is permanent, irrevocable, and binds her to him. It will change the young maiden, all rituals bring about changes to those who undertake them. It is for two reasons that it is falling out of favor as time progresses. First, it is singular, the man gives up nothing to have her bound to him. He can be as unfaithful as he would like and she would remain ever faithful. Secondly, it must be willing. If the subject is forced into it, their magic will fight and the ritual will botch, and you, my heir, should not need warnings on potential repercussions for failing to do a ritual correctly._

_The other virginity ritual is one that is far less prevalent. In fact, it has fallen so far out of favor, I expect it will be lost to the annals of history. Within the magical world, there are traits passed down by blood. While the ones that would readily come to mind would be one of my own, Parseltongue, every single person has some type of magical trait. A proclivity for herbology or potions, a mastery of charms or transfiguration, an affinity for fire or water, and so on and so forth. The second ritual allows both participants to share their most prominent trait with one another. An equal exchange among the two, but not among the Houses a party to the marital agreement._

_Maintaining a monopoly on bloodline traits is, has been, and will always be, important for Houses. They do not wish for their gifts to be 'stolen' and they do not wish for others to come to be known for what, in their mind, is 'rightly theirs', theirs and theirs alone. It is madness, however. You cannot hoard a gift and let it flourish at the same time. As they try and protect their monopolies, they breed brother to sister, cousin to cousin, aunt to nephew, and niece to uncle. Such barbaric practices, all in the name of 'protecting their blood' will lead to the destruction of their gift. You cannot have a tree grow in the dark, you cannot have a flower flourish without the sun. The ritual is meant to strengthen magical lineages, it is meant to allow for the possibility of the mixing of traits. Would a metamorph and a parseltongue be able to blend together, allowing the inheritor to speak to any magical creature?_

_No, the folly of our society is their hoarding. They protect and actively stifle their magical gifts. They hide away their most precious knowledge. It is only with Hogwarts that there has been greater cross training amongst the magical arts. Houses would train their own and not allow others to learn their 'family magic'. Leaving knowledge to be lost, skills to not be passed down, and a desire to destroy their own works rather than let it fall into the hands of another._

_Let me not tarry too long, for my words are never ending on the asinine proliferation of idiocy within the magical community. Listen my heir, love is not infatuation, it is your own choice. There are many who could love you and be deserving of your love. Use your head, think it through and protect yourself from your heart._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Well then, how did it go?" Horace said, starting the official meeting, the first one with Patrice in attendance.

"Exactly how we expected," Harry responded, it was one thing to intellectually know you were setting yourself up for disappointment, it was another to experience it.

Horace reached over and patted Harry's left forearm. "I'm sorry, my boy. I am." There was no smugness or prattling on about how correct his prediction was.

"Did you discuss the information we had planned to plant?" Cyrus questioned, speaking up for the first time beyond greeting the others.

Harry nodded, "Yes. They saw the wording we wanted before I destroyed it." Harry looked at his right hand and lifted a finger, un he mentally counted. "They know I'm still hanging around Natalia and that I declined a contract from them." He lifted a second finger, his fore and middle fingers now raised, deux. "I planted the idea of five women." A third finger joined the other two, trois, he completed his inner monologue for a set of three.

"They believe Fleur is my main pursuit." His pinky finger joined the others, un. "I didn't have to point out that they don't know who my mystery tutor is, they brought it up, as proof of why I don't trust them." Harry's thumb was extended, all five fingers on his right hand now extended, deux was counted for a second time. "I told them I have nothing going on with the Ministry right now." Harry's left hand raised and he lifted up just the thumb, the rest of his fingers were closed, trois, the second set of three, and the final point, completed.

"Excellent, excellent." Slughorn boomed out, he raised his glass to Harry. Cyrus, the man who had asked, gave him a respectful nod and took a drink of his firewhiskey.

Harry glanced over at Patrice and he could see the man wasn't quite sure what was being talked about here.

"Excuse me, but what is being talked about, exactly?" Patrice Delacour asked, breaking into the conversation.

"Sorry Patrice, I had tried to recruit my father's best friends to join us here. It's possible that if I had let them know about horcruxes, they would have," Harry paused and let himself debate that idea before shaking his head, after realizing he'd never utter the word without an adequate vow in place. "But, anyway, we expected they wouldn't and will bring up what we talked about to Dumbledore. Knowing this, we had discussed what should and should not be discussed with them; I only revealed things that we'd agreed upon ahead of time."

Patrice's eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes filled with confusion when he inquired further, "Dumbledore is a problem? Wouldn't he be an invaluable ally?"

Harry sighed, knowing this would be difficult to address. "Honestly, I'm not sure what to make of him." Harry began, not helping to clarify things in the least, "He knows Riddle is after me, he's always known more than he's ever let on with me and we suspect he's known about the horcrux issue for some time."

He saw Patrice's head quirk in question and he elaborated on that, "If I was hidden away in the muggle world, with my mom's sister's blood protecting me, why would that be necessary if it was just renegade Death Eaters who were left to attack me?"

Harry had spent a lot of time thinking about these things while he trained. He'd found he could work through his rigorous exercises while his mind was focused, or thinking, about something else, it allowed for a lot of time for thought. He used the time for things like trying to make sense of what had happened to him in his life and to see if there was something he missed, or could pick up from, looking back at his life.

"After the Longbottom's were attacked, I should have been safe, like everyone else. Even if there was still a worry, I could have been taken to live abroad, I could have been raised behind a Fidelius charm, or any manner of things. I didn't have to be tucked away, kept ignorant and mistreated by the only blood relation that I still have, one known to have been hostile to anything magical." Harry explained quickly, the words tumbling out of his mouth as he just wanted to get through that.

"We had always wondered…" Patrice began his reponse slowly, looking pensive, his eyes shifting downward as he collected his thoughts. "Albus always spoke on your behalf and assured the wizarding world you were being cared for and protected."

"He did, and when you became a seeker in your first year, something that shouldn't have been accomplishable, the Daily Prophet covered it, making us all assume you _must_ have had previous flying experience, quite a bit of it." Cyrus interjected into the conversation, looking at Harry first, as he started out and then his eyes shifted away, addressing both of the others in the room.

"And you believe the fact that you were hidden away, needlessly, is evidence of him knowing your Dark Lord is still around?" It would have been hard for anyone who heard Patrice to believe that he wasn't skeptical.

"It is one of the supporting points. The most damning would be his lack of disbelief when I confronted Riddle in my First Year. He'd laid a trap for him, enticed him to try for the Philosopher's Stone. After the confrontation between us, I asked Dumbledore if that meant Riddle could never return. He responded with: '_I'm afraid there are ways in which he can return.'_" **

Harry let that sink in for a moment before he punctuated his point. "He knew prior to my first year that he would be back at some point. The question is _when_ did he know, not whether he knew or not." The Head of House Potter could help some of the frustration from leaking into his voice.

The Frenchman didn't question that but he did look quizzically at the others.

"The question of timing is what has us concerned," Cyrus started to explain, his voice quiet and contemplative. "He was the Chief Warlock and it is well known many of those who were actually loyal to that mad man did not end up in prison, only the fanatics and truly irredeemable." He twirled his drink, staring at it for a few seconds, before taking a mouthful of it. "What is worrisome is that if he knew that back then, he either allowed the men to walk free, so that he could try and monitor them, or he allowed an enemy he knew he'd have to face again to get away to fight again."

"On one hand, we know, or believe at least, that Dumbledore is aware of the horcrux situation." Harry looked at his left hand while he said the first part. He turned his neck and looked down at his right hand now, lifting it up, "Yet, on the other hand, we don't see anything being done to combat what he _knows_ is coming." Harry pushed his hands together, rubbing them against each other briefly before clasping them.

"Taking the two together, we are left with a man purported to be the only reason Riddle never won in the first place, the only one he feared, the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, a man most would claim as one of, if not the, most respectable magical figures of our time, and we see _nothing_? No action taken against his future enemies? No training for a child that was targeted?" Harry shook his head and brought his hand up to his forehead, rubbing it against his head. It was just hard to believe the sequence of events.

"Dumbledore knows but doesn't act. For now, he's not an ally. There is potential, the expectation even, for cooperation. But, we will _never_ follow his lead when he has pissed away the opportunities to cripple our enemies." There was some bite to his words, his frustration evident on his face, his forehead creasing as he looked darkly at his drink.

"You expect a confrontation with him?" Patrice asked after some time processing what he'd heard.

"A verbal one, yes." Harry answered, he knew they'd have to hash things out at some point. They realized they more than likely needed his assistance with the horcrux issue too.

"There has to be, he's meddled with my life since before I was born." He saw the raised eyebrow from Patrice, but continued on, "He was the one that had my parents go into hiding. Dumbledore was the one that decided to place me with my magic-hating _relatives_," Harry spat that word out, "and he was the one that tried to keep me from becoming emancipated, this year. Has he not already spoken to you about me, Patrice? Has he not been meddling around in the life of an emancipated minor that no longer has any affiliation with his school or person?" Harry leaned forward, his neck craned and turned slightly as Harry's own eyebrows lifted in challenge to his words.

Patrice didn't seem pleased with the answer, but neither was he immediately discrediting any of the words that were being said.

"While we hope Albus will not act against us, we understand caution is required and we will be wary of him, and those who follow him," Slughorn smoothly cut into the conversation, "I've known Albus for many a year…he has never been forthcoming with knowledge and keeps his own counsel."

"The Chief Warlock and I have never gotten on." Cyrus bluntly stated. "He champions for change but it is more rhetoric than anything else," he paused and frowned. "Rhetoric might be the wrong word. I believe he does believe in the causes he champions, just not in the same way that they would like him to."

"How so?" Harry asked immediately, his attention heavily drawn now.

"It's about the discrepancy between words and actions," he began to explain, taking a quick drink as his voice had gotten a little dry. "He claims muggleborn should not be looked down upon but hasn't put any bills forth to legislate it. For instance, the Ministry has always been known to not hire Department Heads that are no pureblood by birth. It was Dumbledore that championed Dirk Cresswell into the position of Head of the Goblin Liaison Office and now he has just been promoted to the Head Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"Wouldn't that be a point in favor of Albus following up his words with actions?" Patrice asked, though the way he did so left it clear that he was not doubting Cyrus' words.

"One would think so," Cyrus responded amusedly, a sly grin growing onto his lips. "But if one had a English pureblood upbringing, they would know that having to sully oneself to comport oneself with filthy half breeds and dark creatures was a form of punishment. If you screwed up horribly, or upset someone like the Minister, you could find yourself transferred to that department."

Harry could see that the half breed comment hit too close to home for Patrice to not react, even if it was not meant in a derogatory way.

"Ah yes, Cuthbert Mockridge, Fudge's former boss, when he first entered the Ministry," Horace quickly clarified, and went on. "He was a right bastard to his underlings. It was one of Cornelius' first moves, to transfer his former overlord there," he chuckled and held his belly as his laugh deepened. "He would always take such glee in ordering him to go and negotiate with the vampires and werewolves especially. I heard tales of all his comments. I'd even heard of him having to be checked over for bite marks after visiting them, before he was allowed to head into the Ministry."

Harry frowned, not liking what he was hearing.

"Dirk is a good man. I once even heard him complimented as the least dirty of all the filthy mudbloods," Cyrus said, though there was no humor in his voice as he did so. "My point stands, Dirk was given the prestigious position of shit shoveler. He got to be the liaison to the goblins and then, under Dumbledore's championing, he got the position of Chief dragon dung sifter. I believe the argument within the Wizengamot was that nobody had earned the position, so why not give it to Cresswell."

"So he was like the broom boy for a quidditch team? He can get his own jersey and can be made to feel part of the team but really he is a grunt who does all the work the others do not wish to do?" Patrice clarified with an analogy of his own.

Harry saw both Cyrus and Horace nod in agreement.

"Look, it's not like we _want_ to be at odds with Dumbledore. We just can't have him lead us. He tried last war and lost. When he had a chance to put them all away, he gave them mercy. Now, we are on the brink of an upcoming war and I can't, I _won't_, put my life in his hands. I don't know why, but, I do know that Riddle will keep coming for me until one of us is dead, for good, and I _will_ be the one to survive." Harry's eyes were hard and he could feel his magic churning, he could feel it pool around his body. Whenever he got too emotional his magic responded, it layered around his body, ready and waiting for his will, his intent.

Things got quiet as Harry calmed himself. Harry noted they took uneasy sips of their drinks and watched him somewhat wearily.

"I don't see any issues with facing Dumbledore. Though he could be a powerful ally, if we are able to cultivate the relationship well," Patrice said after a time, his lips scrunched and off centered to the left. "What else has been considered, as far as preparations go?" He asked, looking between the other three.

"Well, Horace and Cyrus have been handling the political and financial components. Though the two families I am Head of, have wealth and power, I don't know how to wield them, nor do I know how to fight financial battles. So, if you three all want to tackle that and keep me in the loop, from time to time, that works just as well for me." Harry said. He couldn't be in the thick of everything. He already knew what he had to do, he had to be their powerhouse, their wand that could defend and face any others.

"That I can do." Patrice said, and he could see Harry was going to continue.

"That leaves two real issues: horcruxes and a plan of action against the Death Eaters that escaped." Harry said, scarcely whispering the forbidden word for the desecrating soul magic.

"Oh ho! Not going to tell him of your plan for Malfoy?" Slughorn asked and chuckled, though there was no merriment in his eyes, nor his laugh.

Harry shut his eyes. He knew they thought him foolish, they thought Malfoy untouchable, but he was actually their most accessible. He didn't listen to the words, whatever was being said against his plan to kill Lucius wasn't worth hearing. They'd talked his ears off and he wouldn't budge.

"I can get to Malfoy in his home. Dobby, his former elf, can pop me outside the wards and I can get in undetected," he let the incredulity of his words take root but cut them off before they could blossom into words of their own. "I'm actually more concerned with how to frame it?"

"Sure, how to frame it, that's the issue, not the wards that have protected them for _generations_," Cyrus' broke in sarcastically, being critical with his dry humor.

"For _me_, it won't be." Harry stated with resolution, he eyed everyone with thinned lips.

Just as he could begin to hear their rebuttals, Harry held up his hand to forestall any lecture about it. "Look," he started out in a strong authoritative voice, "have you known me to be boastful or claim I can do something when I could not? Have I not listened to your advice and acted upon it?" He could see their countenance fall, their worry and frustration stymy at his words.

"I _know_ what you will say; but, I'm _telling _you, Malfoy isn't going to be an issue. Believe me and leave it at that. If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have brought it up."

This was a difficult decision for Harry. He wanted to tell them about his cloak, that he knew he could get in undetected. With Dobby's assistance, he'd know the layout and where to find Malfoy's office, his bedroom, or anywhere else that he might be. The cloak was something he _couldn't_ speak of, vows or not. It's abilities could _never_ come to light, it was a trump card he'd have to do his utmost to protect, like all of his previous ancestors had.

"I have not been a part of these previously and I trust," he eyed the other two men, "you are as true to your word as you have always been with my family. While I will trust you are capable of what you say, I have two primary concerns," Patrice trailed off and took a sip of his drink, inviting a response from anyone else.

Having heard none, he continued, "The first concern is you are both tied by family connections, you being Regent Black and his wife being born a Black. I surmise direct action would lead to repercussions from breaking the contract."

Patrice looked at Harry to respond but Harry turned his head to Cyrus, a sly grin tugged at his lips.

Cyrus' eyes gleamed in amusement as he cleared his throat to answer the question that wasn't originally directed at him. "Harry had requested that I check into this. I have found the contract and saw that this term has already been violated."

Harry couldn't help as the sly grin stretched into a rather wide one. "Let Cyrus finish, then I'll comment," he deflected attention back and gestured for the man to continue.

"Beyond that, I found another term violated by the Malfoy family. The accords for cooperation were also breached, in the most intentional of ways. From what I can gather, the Black family can use the breaches to reclaim the dowry and financial compensation from the considerations within the agreement. While I have not reviewed the numbers, it does look like the Black family will be able to ruin any financial liquidity the family currently has and I expect to also foreclose on land or properties, given the weight of the debt." It wasn't hard to hear the glee in his tone as he explained the financial implications.

"I worked with the information Cyrus passed, through Daphne, his heiress, and I think I have a good idea of the specific breaches," he said, starting out what he knew to be a longer explanation.

"I'll give them in chronological order, so you'll have a good idea of what occurred. The first breach was before Riddle's fall, before the night he attacked my parents, though only by weeks. As far as I can tell, no other Blacks were harmed or killed other than Regulus Black, Orion's second son." Harry let his words wash over them. He hadn't actually covered this with Horace yet, it was something he'd spent time working out with Daphne.

"Reggie… he was such a bright boy. He was always quiet and such a people pleaser. It was always rumored that something happened to him, killed by You-Know-Who was the rumor." Slughorn said forlornly, his face drooping.

"Well, given the date of death and the matching date for the breach of contract, we can assume the two are linked. He must have physically or magically gone against the familial alliance, his first breach." Harry shot his eyes over each one of them.

"The next series of breaches are all related. Without an acting Head or Regent of House Black, when Arcturus passed away, Malfoy defaulted on his financial cooperation obligations and it has worsened over time. Cyrus is still working out what will be owed."

Cyrus grinned ferally and both Slughorn and Delacour laughed knowing full well how joyful the undertaking would be, especially when it came to presenting evidence for recompense.

"The final one, and this one has the most dire consequences for Malfoy, is that he tried to cast the killing curse at me, at the end of my second year. It was only the intervention of his former elf, Dobby, that stopped the incantation." He forestalled any comments as he wanted to keep this focused and not get into the events around his second year, at this point they were irrelevant to the future plans they needed to make.

"Whatever happened with Regulus wasn't enough to trigger the clauses that state a member of the Malfoy family fully intended and willed for the death of a son or daughter of House Black, he knowingly worked against House Black, but not to that extent. His attempted casting of the killing curse at me _did _trigger that level of contract breach."

"Meaning, you are free to act against Lucius with impunity," Slughorn said with realization, a look of utter glee coming to his face, pride evident in his tone. "You're learning, playing the great game that is politics."

"Yes, well, I've had good teachers," his eyes sought out Horace and then flicked over to Cyrus,, though Slughorn had been spending his nights for potions lessons to drill him on politics also, not to mention every other opportunity he had as well.

"But I've a lot to learn and this is why I'm asking for help. I know I can get to Malfoy… but I'm not sure _how_ we should try and frame it," he paused and squinted his eyes, as he thought back to what he and Daphne had come up with. "Probably the most believable option was to try and ruin him financially, for his failings to live up to the marriage contract with a daughter of House Black and then offing him, trying to make it seem someone working for him was unhappy at the turn of events and put it that way. I mean, he must have unsavory types around him that'd stab him in the back the second he looked to be in a position of weakness, wouldn't he?"

Harry wasn't really sure that plan was fully believable but he had faith in the collective brain power of the other three men, all were more than capable, adept even, at leading their families.

"It would be believed by some," Patrice said slowly, his forefinger and thumb stroking his chin. "Having him die within his own wards will make it more believable, perhaps with two drinks poured, spilled even, but it would have to be a precision strike. Once anyone had tried to kill the ward-holder, there would be trouble. Elves, portraits, and Lucius himself was known as a competent dueller. A single strike, preferably non-magical, would make the scene believable." Patrice said knowingly, giving the idea careful consideration.

"You'll want to leave a false trail as well," Cyrus added quietly. "A message to those of his ilk. A bar of fudge stuffed in his mouth might suffice."

Slughorn chuckled darkly. "Pin the assassination on political aspirations…yes, that would be convincing, especially after we try and ruin him financially."

"Okay, so, I'll plan for shortly after Cyrus does his best to destroy him financially and legally?" Harry asked more than he stated.

The question gave pause to the men around him. Eventually Patrice broke the silence with an answer. "The same night that it is announced. He'll be angry, stupid and will more than likely drink in his office while he works through things, late into the night even. Take him then, a quick strike when it looks to be the worst will be for the best."

"Without Lucius, Narcissa, a daughter of the House you are Regent of, will be left to fend off the consequences. Without Lucius, her position will be weak, she'll be, hopefully, emotionally compromised and any hope of the Malfoy family regaining the prestige and power they held before Fudge's dismissal will be dead. It would take an able man half a decade of maneuvering in favorable circumstances," Slughorn added thoughtfully.

"And few would consider the Malfoy heir capable," Cyrus piled on.

"No, he is not, not if what my Fleur says is true," Patrice agreed easily, a smirk adorning his face. "Speaking of my Fleur, she has asked me to expedite negotiations, now that we are _fully_ in the know and joining you in this endeavor."

Harry sighed and gave a half-hearted smile, running his hand through his hair. "Let, uh, let's cover one more thing first."

"D'accord." Patrice said, slipping back into his native language. His face was schooled but Harry was sure he was less than pleased, especially when offering his eldest daughter's hand in marriage.

"Cyrus and Horace have known we need a general. Cyrus covers financial matters, Horace is masterful at politics and now we have added you, as well. Together, the three of you make a robust group of counsellors, but we are trying to seize an advantage before Riddle has a chance to come back."

He was saying something that two of the three of them knew but this was new to Patrice, so he was covering it one more time.

"I've looked. I've followed up suggestions and the closest I have come to find someone that might be willing to join our cause is Alastor Moody. By reputation a hard nosed man willing to wade into the deepest shit-filled sewers to fight. But, even he isn't a perfect match," Harry said, frustration, annoyance and weariness battling for supremacy in his tone.

"How so?" Patrice asked immediately, his face stiff and a blank mask still.

Harry ran his hand down his face and breathed out heavily. "Because he's a career auror. He might have fought against the rules the Ministry imposed on him, but he's fought and bled with them. From what I can gather, he's very loyal to Amelia Bones, a former trainee of his. With her rising to Minister, I can't imagine he'll be swayed to our cause easily. In fact, just approaching him could put Dumbledore and the Ministry onto us, which would be more problematic than him flatly turning us down."

"Aberforth Dumbledore?" Horace asked, it was a man he'd suggested looking into.

Harry shook his head. "No, he's a barkeep and has a weekly get together with his brother. They may not like each other but they are still blood. We can't trust he'd not speak of it to his brother. He's too cautious and cagey to swear anything fully binding before getting information."

"Then who?" Patrice asked but Harry could see the question on Patrice's and Cyrus' lips.

Harry braced himself, internally, he knew how well this was going to go over. "Ivan Pavlov," Harry said and it was total silence in the room, after he spoke. The two advisors he has been trusting for some time were already aware but they knew how well this may go over for Patrice Delacour.

The Pavlov family was at the center of the bloc that ensured the ICW did not recognize Veela as full equals to witches across their member nations. They were a part of the political oppression for the Veela conclaves in Bulgaria and the two families got on like oil and water.

"You would _trust_ such a man?" Patrice said, his voice like iron, his words grit out as his fleed jaw barely moved.

"I have searched and searched and searched some more. I have spoken with Horace and Cyrus, I have casually questioned others and have sought _anyone_ that has experience with running a war like this," Harry said, his eyes hard and resolute. This was his show and he knew this was going to be incredibly difficult but it was his life on the line. It was their lives and their families that were pledging themselves to his faction. They could run, they could bail, but Harry never could.

With his neck on the line, he was going to make tough decisions and do what was most likely to ensure he survived, no matter how much he disliked doing it.

"Tell me of another family that is willing to bind itself to me? Tell me of another family that won't balk at getting their hands dirty, at interrogating people, illegally, that will make people disappear and have no scruples about ensuring the outcomes they need to happen do, in fact, happen. Name me someone else that isn't law enforcement that could assist us in what is essentially a criminal type undertaking, a gang war, a vigilante masterwork."

He could see that Patrice was taking in his words but the reddening of his checks, the grinding of his teeth and the fury in his eyes made it clear just how well he was taking it.

"_Name _someone else. _Name_ me _anyone_, Patrice," Harry was standing now, his palms pressed into the desk and his upper body was leaning over his elbows. It wasn't that he was furious or even truly angry. This wasn't about fighting or combatting for leadership but just not backing down. He had done his research, he had done _everything_ he could to try and find anyone else. If Patrice could name one, he'd gladly look into it.

"Sirius Black," Patrice spat the name. "Your father's friend, and he fought in the last war."

The elder Delacour wasn't standing but he was leaning forward and his drink cup was being mauled by the grip of his hand. The Frenchman was livid at the thought of including the Pavlov's and had come up with a viable alternative.

"I tried," Harsy said tiredly, dropping his head. He shut his eyes and swallowed the moroseness that had welled up from within. "He won't swear the oath. Neither he nor Remus Lupin will. Remus is firmly with Dumbledore and Sirius…well, he isn't what he was…he needs help. The decade in Azkaban hasn't been kind to his fitnes, both mental and physical."

"Arcturus, Charlus, Frank Longbottom, Edgar Bones, and a whole list of other prime candidates just aren't around to fill the void," Slughorn said, his melancholic tone palpable. "Can you imagine what Charlus would do to me if I advised his grandson to marry a Pavlov?" He actually shuddered at the thought.

"He'd string you up by your intestines, that would be, after your head was removed from your arse and his boot had taken itself out of your mouth, from being so far up your arse in the first place," Patrice gave a mirthless chuckle, his eyes downcast as he slumped forward, his free hand rubbing his forehead.

"Why do you think we have you here, first?" Cyrus asked rhetorically. "You will be a part of our negotiating team for the contract between Natalia and Harry."

Harry could always well imagine that Cyrus was the kind of person you didn't want as your enemy. He could understand why Voldemort didn't make an enemy of him, even when he refused to support his position. His ruthless cunning would be horrific to have aimed at yourself. His pragmatic and shrewd words helped to fully resolve the earlier tension.

"I don't think it will be possible for you to marry Fleur," Patrice said after a few moments of silence. His words came out as the realization came to his brain. "Apolline would never allow it…and Fleur…no, I don't see how it's possible, not if you make a match with Natalia Pavlova," his words came out as tired as they were soft. "I'd love to join our families, Harry, but not with this," he sat up and took a swig of his drink, finishing it, before muttering, "Apolline et Fleur n'accepteraient jamais une telle situation."

Harry nodded, he couldn't form words. Not now, anyways.

"Shall I tell her, or will you?" Patrice asked, his eyes fixated on Harry's.

Harry swallowed, his throat was dry and the lump that was there was just imaginary, just his emotions. "I...I will," he was barely able to whisper the words, his eyes not able to look above the floor.

The meeting could have gone on, he could have explained more about Malfoy and what Natalia had told him but he couldn't continue, not now. His eyes were open but he was not seeing, his ears were hearing but they were not listening, the words filtered through his brain but he was not processing.

He knew what his decision was going to lead to and now he was facing it. His eyes were dry but only because he was willing himself to not allow them to leak. It would come but not now.

With a heavy heart he stood and began to leave, he didn't know what else they were discussing and he didn't care. He had to talk to Fleur before he lost the will to do so.

There was only one thought he had running through his head, one that repeated over and over and over: 'Was it worth it, mom?'

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry knocked on the door after staring at it for more than a minute. His mouth was dry and his stomach was in knots. He didn't know how he was going to do this. He felt he should, he felt this was what was right but now that he was here, could he do it?

Fleur answered the door, her angelic face lighting up, so radiant and ecstatic to see him. "'Arry! I wasn't expecting you, or I would have prepared!" She dropped her chin and stared at the bust of her chest suggestively, winking at him as she caught his eyes roving to where hers had just been, his cheeks reddening on his ghostly pale face.

She took in his appearance, he was standing there and hadn't moved towards her. Harry's hands were wrapped around his stomach and his skin was lacking its normal healthy hue.

"Are you alright, 'arry?" She asked, her hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder.

Instinctively, Harry flinched away from her touch, he didn't want her to feel the war going on inside of him.

It didn't matter what he wanted, Fleur took a quick step forward and mashed her body against his, wrapping herself around him. Harry's body, the traitor that it was, leaned in and relaxed into her embrace, his eyes shut and he breathed in her wonderful scent.

Damnation! This was _not_ going to be easy.

He'd won her heart, he'd gotten a woman that would stand shoulder to shoulder with him and _fight_ for him, fight _with_ him.

How could he give her up?

How could he break her heart?

"'Arry? What is it? What is wrong?!" She detached herself from the hug, pushed her body back and brought her hands up to his shoulders, keeping a strong grip on him as she gazed at him, worry plainly written across her gorgeous face.

"C-c...can we sit down?" He struggled to find his voice as he avoided answering her question.

"Of course," she said, her worry filled eyes roving up and down his body, searching for anything that would explain.

Her left hand dropped down his back, falling to the base of it and ushering him into the room, her free hand grasping onto his. Quickly she led him to a couch and sat him down. She sat beside him, her body touching his, her upper body turned to his as she stared at him compassionately.

"I've come from meeting my advisors…your father included among them." Harry wanted to look at her but he feared he'd succumb to her, he'd fail to do what he had hardened his heart to do.

"Did something 'appen? Was someone 'urt?" She asked quickly, the words firing out of her mouth with barely any space between them. Her blue eyes were so soft and earnest in their concern for him.

"No, nothing like that," Harry said, his voice scarcely more than a whisper.

"Then what is it? If you are fine and nothing 'as 'appened…" Her eyebrows knit together in confusion, "is it money troubles?" Fleur asked doubtfully, as heiress she would be at least somewhat privy to the financial discussions Cyrus, Horace and Patrice had been having for their possible betrothal.

"No," Harry said, falling back into the couch, his head lifting and neck craning backwards resulting in him staring at the roof, or they would have been if his eyes were not shut.

Fleur stroked up and down his arm in a comforting manner, "Why don't you start from the beginning? You can tell me anything, you can trust me 'arry, you know that."

Her soft caring words were like knives punctuation him over and over. What she said was true and it _hurt_ to hear it.

How could he reject her? How could he act knowing it would leave to breaking her heart?

"The beginning," Harry stated, fatly.

"Oui, as good a place 'as any," Fleur said with warmth, still running her hand up and down his arm.

Harry exhaled, deeply, and brought his head back down to a normal level as he did so. "Well, you know I have a dark lord after me, and that he's not gone," Fleur bobbed her head, allowing him to continue without breaking. "And you know that I'm trying to assemble a team of people to be proactive about it, to not rely on Dumbledore like everyone else did."

"Oui, Papa had said your team 'ad worked to get a more favorable Ministry as well, one less likely to be bribed, and one that 'eld a grudge against the Death Eaters. Is that not so?"

Harry gave her a strained smile. "It has worked out that way, yes," he was not giving full credence to the work of removing Fudge. It hadn't been the play, per se, but it had been a boon to their cause, and one he didn't mind jumping on when the opportunity had arisen.

"Well, now, now I need someone to help with our covert efforts to weaken, destabilize, or outright destroy their sources of power and wealth."

Fleur frowned again, it was such a horrible thing. Her face was too beautiful to be upset. The foreign look had never looked as it would on others. Somehow, it came closer to a cute look than one of being upset for any reason.

"And you 'ave someone for this spot?" She asked, carefully, more than likely seeing the agitation Harry was exhibiting at her question.

"Ivan Pavlov."

The name sent a ripple of shock through the room, it was as if everything stopped, froze. Fleur's widened eyes flashed through a number of emotions, too many to name quickly but there was certainly hurt there. Her hand stilled, at first, then withdrew from him, both of her arms withdrew back to her body.

"And what would 'e ask, to do such a thing?" She asked, her voice only quivering at the end. Fleur was too smart to not know the answer. Perhaps she just wanted to hear it from him.

"An action showing I'm serious about being willing to get my hands dirty, financial considerations for his family businesses and," he gulped before steeling himself, he'd be a man and face the consequence of his decision, "and, his daughter's hand in marriage." Harry's jaw snapped shut and he watched Fleur's reaction to the words she knew were coming.

"Non!" She gasped aloud, her hand flying to her mouth. "Non, non, non, non, non!" She repeated the word over and over and over, as if futilely saying the word would change something, anything.

"You can't, 'arry! You-you c-c-can't d-do this to me! Non, not you, 'arry!" She was responding rapidly, in denial as to what this meant to _their_ marriage negotiations.

She reached forward and grabbed his hand. "Non! I can _feel _it. I _know_ 'ow you feel about me!" She waved his limp and unresponsive arm as if it was indefensible evidence. Sadly, if she could truly feel how he felt about her then it would seem like it. He cared about her, he truly cared for her. And this, this, was leaving him feeling cold, empty, vacant. It wasn't so much that there was a void that was now empty, one she had previously filled, as much as there was just a blanketing of pure nothingness. He just didn't feel.

"Why, 'arry? Why? Why do this?!" She was frantic in her questioning and her yearning to understand was physically affecting Harry. He could see tears leaking down her face now and her hand had refused to give up the grip on his, not that she was hurting or squeezing him too hard or anything.

Harry blinked back unshed tears of his own and ran his free hand through his hair. "To survive, Fleur. To give me the best chance at reaching twenty, thirty, fifty..." he let his voice trail off.

"To survive?!" She sounded offended to Harry's ears. "Not for love? Not because you want to be with, with that-that, _putain_?!" Fleur had searched for a word and though Harry didn't know what the word meant, he was entirely sure it was not a kind way of referring to Natalia.

Harry gave a miserable shrug. "What would you have me do Fleur?" He asked softly, the question rhetorical, both from them both knowing exactly what she wanted from him and that he pressed on before she could fully open her mouth.

"There is a Dark Lord," he began punctuating each word, "after me! And not just _any_ old dark lord. No, this is one that has already _gutted_ the best and brightest of the last _two_ generations. This is a _monster_ that decimated a country and could only be _stalled_, I'll say it again, _stalled_, not beaten, by the man who _beat_ Grindelwald." He stopped for a moment, his voice was getting heated and he wasn't here to unload on Fleur. She didn't deserve any ire.

"Dumbledore outdueled Gellert Grindelwald. And the best he can do against Riddle is stalemate. Is that sinking in? Are you getting the depth of the shit that I'm in? Do you get that I've already met his disembodied spirit. I've already met and beaten him, through sheer luck, and, at some point, he will be back, back with _all_ of his followers and a powerbase that will be unassailable if left intact?" His words weren't heated any longer, they were still filled with conviction but, like his face, placid and equanimous.

Fleur's hand clasped his hard. "We can do it 'arry! I'm the best Beauxbatons 'as seen for some time, Madame Maxime would not lie. And you, you have a _dragon_. You are a dragon. Powerful, fierce and unstoppable," her eyes didn't betray any form of disbelief, the words she spoke were spoken perfervidly.

"We can do this, 'arry, together. Papa, Maman, Horace and Cyrus. We don't need them! We'll find a way, 'arry! Believe me!" She was holding both of his hands now and was fully turned to him, her blue eyes fiery and willing him to agree.

"Please 'arry," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes, her chest heaving slightly following her impassioned plea.

Harry stared at her, wondering if his mother had to do this. From everything he had heard she hated, detested and loathed his father, prior to the contract. Her plan had worked, to a degree. Her parents and sister outlived the war, her progeny was a part of a distinguished House.

Did she have to give up her love, her hope of love even, when she swallowed her pride, her dislike, and agreed to try dating James Potter? Did she have to sit on a couch with a person she loved and take their heart, the one they had willingly placed in your hands, and then crush it in front of them?

Harry's eyes met Fleur's and he steeled himself. "I love you, Fleur. I know I do. I want to believe the little group we have now is enough. I want to believe that there is a way forward where we marry, have three children, fulfilling careers and die together after a long happy life."

Harry could feel it now, the shift in the air, the feel in the room as it changed. He took a breath and then went along with it. "All I've known is life as an orphan. All I've known is toil and trouble. Every year, I'd almost die and some haphazard miracle allowed me to survive. My eyes are open and I've seen a glimpse of what is coming."

He closed his eyes and thought of what Flitwick had showed him. He recalled Grindelwald's overwhelming storm painting the ground red with the blood of the defenders. He thought of the feats of magic Dumbledore could accomplish. He remembered what was said about Voldemort at the height of his power. He heard the call of his father, he saw the green flash and the begging of his mother, the cold cruel laugh and the ending of her life.

No, this was how it has to be. His parents sacrificed their lives so he could _live._ If he had to give up a loving marriage with Fleur, he would. Natalia wasn't completely trustworthy; her family even less so. But once the ritual was complete, once all of her magical allegiances shifted to him, he knew she could find no other. She'd be loyal to him for the rest of her life, regardless of what happened to him. Would they be as happy and he and Fleur could be? Probably not, but that wasn't definite. Maybe they would be, maybe they wouldn't. At the end of the day though, the cost was something he was willing to bear.

"I love you, Fleur, and a part of me always will," he dropped his hand and Fleur's previously tight grip was gone. Her fingers had no strength, no hold on him any longer. He withdrew his hand and stood.

"I'm sorry, Fleur. I won't ever regret something again in my life as much as I do this. You deserve all of me, not sharing. Your parents would never agree, you'd never agree." Tears fell down his face and the only noise that could be heard in the room was them dropping onto the floor.

"I'm sorry," Harry said once more as his body turned to leave. He looked at Fleur one final time. Her knees were hugging her chest, her arms hugging her legs and her chin was tucked between her knees. Her body was shaking and sobs were starting to come from her.

Harry wanted to go back to her. He wanted to comfort her and tell her everything was going to work out. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful inside and out and every man on the planet would be lucky to have her. That she was too gorgeous, driven and smart to not get past this, that she'd find another, someone better than him, one that would put her above himself, something he couldn't do.

But he couldn't. He was the source of her pain. He was the one that brought her so low, to such a state.

One foot stepped forward and the next stepped past it. One foot after another he made his way to the exit and made his way out. He closed the door and fell back into it. His legs gave out and he slid down the door.

"I respect that it was you doing this, but know I'm not particularly happy with you right now," a voice broke Harry out from his crouched position. He looked up and saw Patrice standing before him. "I understand why you made the choice; I don't agree with it but it is not mine to make."

Harry couldn't bring himself to respond. He moved his head and hoped it was enough of a nod to get across that he had heard what was said.

"You must really care about my daughter to be in this state."

Harry heard the words and almost snorted. If he was such an emotional wreck, he would have. He must look a mess.

"You told her the truth?" Patrice asked, his words coming out more harshly than his previous ones.

"Yes." Harry said, his voice hoarse. "That I love her, but understand...you and Apolline won't accept it, and I can't ask that of Fleur," Harry added before he stood up. He'd have to move to let Patrice pass and he should get back to the Chamber. He could blast targets and pass out with Cuddles curled up against him.

Harry felt a hand land on his shoulder and followed it back up to see it was Patrice and it was a comforting type gesture. "If there is one thing I have learned in my marriage, it is that Apolline is Veela, not a witch."

Harry gave him a quizzical look, his head tilted and his eyebrows rose. He couldn't fathom why he would make that comment and didn't know how to respond.

"Fleur is Veela, there is no doubt about that," Patrice squeezed his shoulder and with that cryptic comment he opened the door, stepped past Harry and shut the door, perhaps symbolic of his time with Fleur as a romantic interest.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> ** quote from HP & the Philosopher’s stone by JKR.
> 
> I may have said it before but I thought I’d reiterate: the beliefs in Salazar’s memoirs are not my own personal ones.
> 
> Thanks to Triage & Nauze for all the beta work, it is always greatly appreciated. Special thanks to Gab for the assistance with the French in this chapter!
> 
> Been a bit between updates. I was studying my brains out for the exam… the exam that covid cancelled. Plus with all that craziness… Stay safe & healthy everyone!


	38. Silent Silk & Flowing Fudg

_As one comes to the ending of their life, they are faced with the realization that they will not be able to complete everything they had planned, or had wanted to, in life. There are many regrets in my life and one of them is the shortening of it due to my own folly. I've retired to my hidden sanctum, my final place of solace._

_There are mysteries I wished to solve, areas of magic that I will never be able to spend years experimenting on. It is hard to face your own demise, knowing it is coming and not being able to escape it. There is no cunning, no guile and no trick that can assist me now. All the respect I have amassed, all the fame I possessed, all the accolades I was showered with, little can they do to impede the inevitable._

_What is worse is that my ending is premature. I sacrificed the length of my life for power. In youth, you are confident and believe yourself invulnerable, infallible. The folly of youth is failing to understand that knowledge is not power, is believing that magical might is the basis for authority. It is only the tempering by wisdom where knowledge gains its power, it is through experience that one learns how and when to use their might. The folly of youth leads you to believe knowledge and power are enough on their own._

_My heir, it is not so! Listen to the old, for they are wise. Seek counsel of those with strong shoulders and a sturdy back, for they have borne the weight of responsibility and it has wrought them through trials and tribulations. Glory in your troubles, rejoice in your difficulties, because it is through torment and trial that you build perseverance and I tell you that perseverance builds character. And it is through character that you will learn to not bow to the trappings of knowledge and power without counsel and wisdom._

_Hear my words, my heir! Heed them! For the weight of the burdens I have carried has now brought me to my knees. My life is ending, my yearnings will go unfulfilled._

_Death humbles all, for none can escape it, the ultimate equalizer._

_Death humbles us all._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry blasted spell after spell at the targets. He'd managed to make them self-replicating after destruction and was making full use of that now. Target after target was destroyed. He wasn't limiting himself to his normal singular spell selection. No, he was mixing in blasting curses, fire, ice, really anything that would smash, pulverize or blow the targets into smithereens.

He was frustrated, pissed off and annoyed. Harry had spent a day in isolation, coming to grips with what he had done, and during that time Fleur had happened. She'd gone to his friends, the ones he introduced her to and helped her befriend, and she'd turned them against him. Angelina, Alicia, and even Katie were doing more than just giving him the cold shoulder. They refused to speak to him and appeared close to hexing him if he pushed his luck.

Fred and George had been conveniently not in the Great Hall when he had come. The only place he'd found friendly faces were with Daphne, Susan, and Hannah. Rumors had already circulated, Fleur and he were not an item anymore and Harry was the arse that made it happen. Fleur was coming out of this looking as good as…well…as good as she always did, and wasn't that a sour enough thought on its own.

Sweat poured down his face as he kept firing off the most powerful variations of his spells that he could. Flitwick had been teaching him control, he'd been working on getting the _precise_ amount of magic needed for something. Although Harry was _powerful_, as Flitwick kept saying, learning to moderate it by being efficient was necessary. When negating spells with his own magic, he had to use a similar amount to do so, otherwise, using too much could have effects far worse than just failing to neutralize it, than by using too little. Flitwick had shown him the result of using too much magic to stop a blasting hex, wild magic interacting with explosive magic…not a good thing to be near.

"Are you going to stay here all day?" Harry heard a voice call out from behind him, he turned and saw that it was Daphne, not that it could've really been anyone else.

Harry didn't answer and returned to his spellwork, the final five targets ending before he ended the self-replication. He quickly dried himself off and freshened himself up and then saw Daphne was still waiting on him, watching him with a critical eye. She was leaning up against the door and looked perturbed at him, her arms crossed and eyebrows knit together.

Harry took a second to recall what her words had been and then answered her, "No, I've just been doing my usual spellwork," Harry bit out, somewhat annoyed, though his frustrations had nothing to do with Daphne.

"Riiiight," she drawled out, her sarcasm thick, "your routine _suddenly_ gets two hours longer and you do nothing but spellwork and studying down here, only leaving when you have your lessons or to meet with father and the others."

Harry's jaw clenched together tightly and he moved to get past her and back to his desk to study.

Daphne pushed herself up right, off the doorway, and blocked his path, her arms folded across her body still.

"Daphne," Harry grit out, "move." His words coming off as a command.

"Are you going to be a moody arse if I let you through or are you willing to talk?" She asked without moving, even as Harry stepped forward, just beyond the propriety of what would be considered personal space.

Daphne's chin rose a smidgen, "You've been mopey and broody ever since you broke it off with Fleur. I've given you space but you're getting worse, not better."

Harry's eyes flashed with anger, "What? Upset at the lack of attention now that you and Natalia have won?" Harry sneered unkindly.

Daphne bristled, "Fine, if that is how you are going to be-" although it looked like she had more to say, she shut her mouth and abruptly left, quickly departing.

Harry watched her leave, his eyes still burning with anger until she was out of sight. He drew in a breath and exhaled out a deep one, huffing, upset with himself over the interaction. Daphne had been nothing but understanding since his decision. She'd given him space, initiated polite conversation but never pushed when he gave her curt answers.

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead. He took one more look back over the room and then trailed after his chambermate. He got into the room and sat at the big desk, Cuddles was eating something she'd caught earlier or something Dobby had brought out for her.

He opened his book, and began to read. His eyes found their way to the bottom and he blinked three times in quick succession and then tried to recall what he'd read. His mind blanked and he scratched the side of his head. He had no idea what he had just read. Harry had read the information but his mind wasn't processing it. Sadly, this wasn't uncommon these past few days.

Harry dropped the book on the desk unceremoniously, causing Cuddles to squawk at the sudden noise. He caught Daphne shooting him an unimpressed looked before she turned back to her book, studiously ignoring him.

Harry stopped scratching the side of his head and let out a sigh. He stood up and brought Cuddles with him, cradling her in one arm up against his chest, his other hand free to pet her as she loved. He treked over and bit back a smirk as he could tell Daphne was doing her utmost to ignore his movement, she kept staring at her book, but he could see her eyes were still and he doubted she would be doing anything but watching him with her peripheral vision.

Harry stopped in front of her, "I'm sorry for snapping at you." He withdrew his wand and conjured a chair so he could sit across from her. He sat and waited for her to respond to his apology.

She arched her eyebrow and crossed her legs. "Apology accepted," she said neutrally.

"I'm just annoyed and frustrated."

"I've noticed," Daphne replied primly.

"I knew Fleur would be right ticked at me but I hadn't thought my Gryffindor teammates would take her side on this," Harry explained with a little frustration and disappointment.

Daphne shook her head, "You don't know much about girls, do you Harry?"

Harry blinked at the question, having not expected it. "Err...wot?" He said unintelligibly.

Daphne giggled and clarified her question, "You've never dated before, aside from Fleur?"

"Err…no, I have not," Harry replied honestly, a slight reddening in his cheeks.

"Well then, let me lay out exactly what has gone on so you understand what is happening and _why _it is happening."

Harry crossed his own legs and sank back into the chair, if he was going to be educated on this he was going to be comfortable. He lowered Cuddles into his lap and let her curl up, he continued patting her when she was snuggled into his thighs.

"The backstory is equally as important as to the psychology of what is going on right now," Daphne began and drew Harry's full attention. "Fleur has been sitting with your teammates at almost every meal. She followed you when you sat at other tables but she had become quite friendly with your teammates."

Harry nodded slowly, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes were focused. He knew this information already but wasn't understanding what this had to do with his teammates siding with Fleur over him.

"They have become quite close and began to spend time together, outside of the Great Hall. I'd seen Fleur studying with them in the Library and had heard she'd spent time in the Gryffindor Common Room."

Oh. His eyebrows lifted at that. He knew they had become chummy but hadn't realized how friendly it had gotten.

"You visit the library and mostly study on your own, unless someone joins you, when you are found there at all. You've been eating a few meals, mostly lunch in the Great Hall but you're not there more than once per day, on average, if you are even there that much," Daphne continued to explain. "Meanwhile, Fleur spent almost every meal with them. She's helped them with their studies and even seemed very friendly with the twin beaters, she often joked with them."

Harry had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly where he'd not seen this going now.

"When you ended things with Fleur, guess who spent all her time dealing with that? There are three names and I'll give you three guesses as to who spent more than one night with the Beauxbatons Champions, in her private room, within the carriage."

"Katie, Alicia, and Angelina." Harry replied needlessly.

"Obviously." Daphne rolled her eyes. "If that wasn't enough, often, when a break up occurs, women defend women and men defend men. Cedric and Viktor would be sympathetic ears to you while the chaser trio are to Fleur."

"But what about the twins then? They seem to be avoiding me."

"Honestly," Daphne huffed, "they have to spend all day around the three girls. Would you want to irritate them by publicly taking your side?" The rhetorical answer of no didn't need to be provided. "I'm sure they'll grovel once things calm down a little. As time moves on, things get easier," Daphne told him with a sympathetic smile.

Harry shrugged, he'd accessed Daphne's expertise and just kept doing what he was doing. Fleur…was a...difficult topic for him. He still felt for her, and deeply at that, but he knew he had made the correct decision.

"Did your father have any news on the financial compensation from the Malfoys?" Harry asked, pivoting to a new subject. There had been disagreement, some of which was quite heated, about when Harry should take on Malfoy.

"No, and as I told you before, it may take months to go through the books to find everything."

Harry shut his eyes and pinched his nose. He'd told them he was going for Malfoy and though they had agreed, begrudgingly, Harry felt they were resorting to stall tactics now. Every time he put forth that he should go and do something, they would bicker and argue about timing, whether they should make it public, if Harry should do an interview first or second and on and on and on. They kept covering every angle from every viewpoint in minutia. It was like they were filibustering the meetings to ensure they stalled everything when the topic came out, and this probably wasn't helping his annoyance levels at all.

The Potter heir appreciated that they cared for him and wanted to protect him but they failed to grasp that he was capable of doing this and he _was_ going to do it, whether they liked it or not!

"I did get something that will require your attention," Daphne said, neatly slipping an envelope out from somewhere on her person when Harry wasn't looking.

"Oh?" Harry asked as he quickly summoned the envelope and opened it up. He quickly began to skim it and let out a long, low, audible groan. "The Minister's Inauguration Gala?" Harry scrunched his nose and lifted his cheeks in disgust. The last thing he felt like doing was socializing at an event.

"Yes," Daphne responded flatly. "As your new personal aide, I get to inform you that you'll be going and bringing a date. Your clothes have been arranged and your date has been setup."

Harry's eyes bulged, "My, my date?" He spluttered, taken aback.

"Yes, your date." Daphne replied, uncrossing her legs, bringing her knees together and placing her book on her lap, her hands folding together on it.

"Who is it? Shouldn't I get some say in it?" He wasn't really bothered, the only person he would have considered would be Natalia but with her busy schedule, preparing for a role in a performance, her time was rather minimal.

"Me," she said, staring at him, scrutinizing his reaction.

Heh, he should have expected that, yet, somehow, he had not.

"Did you just ask me out for a first date?" He asked, teasing her. He could tell Cuddle was having enough of the lazing around and wanted to go for a fly, or hunt, or something. Harry lifted the little dragon, launching her while simultaneously feeding a little magic in her, Cuddles preferred to be a bit bigger when hunting rats.

Daphne rolled her eyes, "You need to ingratiate yourself with the key families and the movers and shakers within the Ministry. I'll be on your arm to provide the information that you'll need and help conduct things so you don't make any missteps," she informed him and neatly dodged the question.

"Don't I get a say before we publicly announce to the world that we are dating? I thought you might want to at least go on a few dates or share a kiss first," Harry didn't relent in his teasing, it was a breath of fresh air to get back to teasing pretty girls again, it was always an enjoyable time.

"You are the centerpiece of our political alliance. This will be your first major appearance at an event like this and it is important you set a strong foundation to build off of. While you'll find natural allies, you will need to cultivate a political support base."

If the Hufflepuff was going to ignore his comments and carry on as if he hadn't said anything, he didn't mind playing that game too. "I mean it's a bit cliche but I thought we'd at least go to Hogsmeade together first, browse through the stores while we awkwardly weren't sure if we should be holding hands or not," he grinned at her as she continued to ignore his comments.

"While we will be able to ensure you gain strong initial traction with House Greengrass political allies, your first impression can go a long way. We can get you in the door but you'll need to prove you are worthy of their support."

Harry enjoyed how she was ignoring his comments and decided to escalate things, he wanted to provoke a reaction. "I mean if this keeps up, are we going to skip ahead, amend the contract, and then fuck?" He saw that she wasn't even half paying attention to his words, not until the word 'contract' was said and her eyes widened, comically, at 'fuck'. "I learned about a couple interesting virginity rituals in my study if you're into that sort of thing," Harry thought it was a humorous off-hand kind of comment. She was sitting with a ritual book in her lap and studied them down here as much as she could.

"What?" Daphne asked sharply.

"I know about you and Natalia offering to join forces against the Veela temptress," Harry exaggerated the reason for their coalition, "and thought if you are going to make our first date such a public event, I thought you might make our first _physical_ event something big too, though your studying down here could be put to use too."

Harry relished the flushing of her cheeks, it was his claimant to victory.

"What kind of rituals?" She asked, biting her lip.

It was Harry's turn to be struck off kilter. His neck backed his head up in surprise. "Uh" He said, caught off guard still, "there were two, one for shifting the loyalty of the female and a second for the sharing of prominent magical traits between the two."

She bit her lip again, "Mmm, I've…heard of them, from what I've learned here." Harry nodded, that's not surprising, "The first one is like a more advanced version of a blood adoption, in a sense, from what I recall reading."

"How so?" Harry queried with a frown, it still bothered him that Daphne was getting an academic understanding whereas he was only getting a practical one.

"The ritual is done by the male, as it was designed this way, and they are undertaking the ritual, not the female, the recipient of the ritual." Harry had wondered about that, if there was a virginity ritual for him to do with others then wouldn't that force them into doing rituals to achieve balance? If Daphne was correct, it would not be the case.

"A blood adoption adds traits to the recipient's blood, it adds to their existing family. While it is a useful ritual, and important to our culture, it cannot remove someone from a family." Huh, so if that was the case he could, theoretically, be added to multiple families by adding their blood to his.

"They are incredibly dangerous as the further removed someone is from the family the greater the likelihood of it harming or killing the recipient. That's why it is so rare to be done and most often used when a new heir is required for the main line of the family, if it is even used at all."

This wasn't really an area Harry had any knowledge in. He'd trust Daphne's word on it and if he ever needed to he could see about verifying it.

"But the virginity rituals…" She continued, crossing her legs and repositioning to sit taller, "the two are different. Blood and magic aren't the same thing. As we all know, magical blood doesn't always mean magical capability, just look at squibs."

This was highly fascinating, to Harry. Was this something else purebloods grew up to learn, he hadn't sat around and considered these things. It reminded him of what Salazar regretted, all the magic he had yet to explore. He could well imagine himself, like Slytherin, wanting to continue to explore the boundaries and depth of magical knowledge and find whole fields of study he may never get to.

"What, I believe, your rituals are doing is that they will have an effect on your magic," she tilted her head and gazed past him in consideration. "The first one sounds, to me, like your magic is binding theirs to you. I'd like to take a look at the ritual itself, it may actually have a blood sacrifice in it."

While Harry was naive about a woman's body it was only to a degree. "You're referring to a virgin's hymen?" Daphne nodded and Harry moved onto the point of his question. "Don't… they sometimes... break?" He asked awkwardly, not used to speaking about these kinds of thing, especially one he was just teasing about sex just previously. "I thought I'd heard that before…" He clarified before Daphne had a chance to answer.

She had opened her mouth to answer and Harry's clarification stopped and shot him an annoyed look before answering. "There is a difference between witches and _muggles_. Our _magic_ protects it. Unless there has been a deliberate action to penetrate it directly, it's always intact. Magicals are hardier, our magic protects us. We are less sick, we heal faster and our bodies can take more punishment, we are _not_ muggles." It wasn't so much disdain that characterized her tone on muggles, it was more vehemence, or a surety, that muggles and witches are not comparable, that they are different.

"Oh, I see," he replied lamely.

"Anyways, as I was saying before, I'm curious about the effect of the ritual. If the witch is shedding blood and allowing your, erhm," her cheeks flushed as her hands fidgeted on the book, "_seed_, accepting it sounds like they are shedding their blood and accepting your magic hierarchically." Though the topic was embarrassing for her too, the Greengrass Heiress was highly intrigued by the rituals being discussed.

"I think these would be a ritual for you but not for them. They are accepting your magic, not doing anything themselves," her eyes squinted while she was mulling something over in her head. "I think, from the sounds of it, it's like painting a wall. They are the wall and the paint, in this case, your magic, is being applied to them but the wall itself isn't changing, not structurally anyways."

Harry nodded and summoned the journal, flipping to the page that detailed the instructions for the rituals and handed it to her. He had no idea if she would be able to read it or not. Daphne was passed the book and her suddenly intensively inquisitive face concluded his wondering.

"These…are...wow!" Her eyes widened and she had a smile on her face.

Daphne ignored Harry and kept staring at the page, her fingers tracing different parts, sometimes pausing as her eyes went on. This kept up for several minutes, part of the time she was muttering things too softly for them to be coherent for Harry.

"You're planning on using the first one with Natalia?" She asked, after a time, her eyes drawing up, away from the journal to meet Harry's.

"Yes. What can you tell me about it? Do you see just the rituals or the text above it too?" Harry asked, he didn't think she would be able to see the journal entry and he was pleasantly surprised she was able to see the ritual at all. The entire setup would be done beforehand and Harry would be the one that did anything beyond just having sex, like normal. It even allowed for a non-magical bed to be used, as long as none of the components had magic then a bed, blanket and pillows were all fine with the ritual.

"What?" Harry's voice brought her back to the land of the living, "Sorry, I missed what you asked."

"I asked if you could read just the ritual instructions or if there was anything else."

"Oh, I can only see the ritual instructions. What else is there?" She asked with unveiled curiosity, her fingers tracing where he could see the journal entry.

Harry shrugged, "More writings from Salazar. This one is him passing thoughts to his heir about marriage and the mistake he made about it. He's long-winded in his explanation but it boils down to him marrying a Gaunt and her being mad, something wasn't right in the head with her, or so he says."

Daphne shook her head, "I can't get over how you get to read his memoirs. A Gryffindor, maybe _the_ Gryffindor of our generation, finds and is staying in Salazar Slytherin's refuge, reading his memoirs and learning from his personal library, sleeping in his old chambers," she shook her head again, her chin dipping down toward her chest as she did so. "It's…it's…I don't really know how to explain how surreal this all is."

"I know, you've mentioned it over and over. You've brought up how your family has dedicated their lives to trying to end whatever is affecting your ability to have heirs and that what you have already learned is far greater than anything your family has been able to dig up." Not mentioned was that she hadn't run out of material to study and she hadn't been given any access to practical ritual sets.

She glared at him, annoyed, and rolled her eyes at him. "These are actual instructions for a ritual, but, from what I can tell, they are self-contained."

"How so?" Harry asked, not quite sure what she meant.

"Several discussions on rituals are about the after effects. For instance, when you strengthen your muscles but not the bones, that's the most common example of doing one good thing that leads to a problem. It's easy to understand the physical aspect, while the magical after effects are _very_ difficult to predict and plan for. It's why rituals have fallen into obscurity."

Harry gave an exaggerated nod. "Don't I know it…" Salazar had harped and harped and harped and harped and harped on it.

"It was rumored that rituals are the reason for a number of issues within families. The Gaunts have always been wrong in the head. Even though they were parselmouth, and the only family left with it in every generation, nobody wanted to marry them, You-Know-Who being a spawn from that line only makes sense," Daphne added the last part thoughtfully.

"I thought it was something he screwed up with the rituals. I've been told he looked as monstrous as he acted." Harry said, thinking more about the issue, one he'd given quite a lot of thought to previously.

"It could be that, I'm worried half to death with the rituals I have seen you undertake," Daphne said seriously. "I can understand each one but…there is a spillover effect. Each ritual has made changes and for each change it makes, another must be made to balance it. With you doing so many, I can't imagine the complexity involved in finding a final balance."

Harry shrugged as he felt uncomfortable, these were the deep worries he had been doing his best to suppress. His hands moved towards where Cuddles liked to curl up on him but they found nothing. Harry clasped his hands together, to keep from continuing the restless motions.

"Forty-nine is madness…I know that now. It's either a mad masterwork by Slytherin or it's going to end horribly." His eyes were a bit hollow and his face a bit despondent. He was trying to keep up hope and while he had confidence that Salazar wouldn't have created this chamber, amessing all his personal library and writing a memoir in parseltongue, all to thwart and destroy any that bore the same magical gift as him. That didn't make a lick of sense.

"The bigger worry is that I've messed up somewhere along the line," Harry voiced, these concerns had been eating at him since even before the ominous words of the Sorting Hat.

Daphne gave him a reassuring smile, her eyes radiating warmth as he cheeks worked to accommodate the widening of her mouth. "I doubt you have. When rituals go wrong, they normally go _really_ wrong. We'd know if you were a hopeless case," she told him with authority.

"I'm glad you're watching the rituals, I feel better knowing I'm not going it alone anymore with them. I wish I'd thought of asking you sooner," Harry meant those words. If there was a big test coming then having Daphne around to watch out for him was beyond prudent.

"It's been fascinating. The complexity is astounding. Do you think you are supposed to do either of the virginity rituals as part of the set?" There was a slight quiver in her lip just after she finished asking and Harry wasn't quite certain he knew what she felt when she had asked the question.

That was the question wasn't it. Salazar never included things like this just because he felt like it. It was obvious that they were not part of the six regular ritual sets but they could be a part of the special seven. There were a few more of those to go and he didn't have a clue as to what they were, he never did until it was needed.

Could he even do that? There were not that many weeks left before he'd complete the rituals. They would be done in the middle of April, and as far as that may sound, it really wasn't that far away.

"I-I thought to make Natalia do the first one. If it converts her to be faithful to me, first and foremost, then I can trust her fully. If it overpowers any oaths she has to her family, then she can actually work with us, and be trusted by us." Harry knew he had a blush, there was no way he could think of sex and Natalia in the same sentence and not have a reaction of some kind. He saw that Daphne had a pink tinge to her cheeks too.

"Are you sure that's wise? Salazar may have had a better ritual to fill the spot, you can only do forty-nine." Daphne asked, a frown maring her pretty face.

Harry ran his hands back through his hair, starting from his forehead, "No I'm not perfectly sure that it's the best idea. But I can't just keep sitting around waiting for Riddle to come back and his supporters to flock to him!" Harry didn't know the path he had now chosen was the correct one. It seemed to be the correct path forward, to him, but he didn't know. How could he? Everything is so easy to second guess afterward; all he could do was make the best decisions with what was known to him at the time and learn from any mistakes he made.

"What if the ritual isn't strong enough? What if it makes her loyal to you but still beholden to her family? What if the reason it fell out of use was that it wasn't as useful as it sounds?" Daphne asked. Harry couldn't tell what she was getting at. It sounded like she may be using her knowledge on rituals and giving advice. Yet, knowing that, it didn't stop this nagging feeling like there was more going on here.

Daphne had been the one to win Natalia over, to take advantage of the obvious split between Fleur and Natalia at the Yule Ball. If she had aspirations to win his affections then creating a split between them only made sense, strategically. Now that Natalia had won over Fleur, was Daphne now turning to create further discord between himself and Natalia?

A part of him thought that the Greengrass family might have been the one to get Hermione out of the picture. It didn't feel like something the Delacours would do. It could have been something that the Pavlov's had done and he thought it was likely one of the two of them. Slughorn had helped him work through the logic and the best thing they could come up with was that someone wanted Hermione out of his circle of friends. Someone needed her away so that Harry would be alone and vulnerable.

Anyone at Hogwarts would have been able to deduce he and Ron were on the outs as soon as his name came out. If anyone was concerned that Hermione had the inside track on winning a romantic race for Harry's heart, then during his absence would be the time to make their play. Getting her out of the country was a logical step, winning over her parents was key as well. If Hermione was worried Harry wouldn't be friends with her then her anchor to Hogwarts would be gone. Slughorn was still looking into it and was going to have an old friend of his make contact in America.

"All you've been doing is hiding in the Chamber," Daphne pointed out, much of Harry's earlier annoyance reared itself back to the forefront. He was bothered by a number of things lately and let his unhappiness with the situation between Fleur and he take over. Things were different now and he didn't like the changes his actions had wrought.

It was one thing to know things between him and Fleur wouldn't stay the same but it was another to experience them. The bright spot of some of his days, finishing his work and then heading up into Hogwarts proper, sitting down for lunch and feeling Fleur come up behind him, her soft hands caressing him and a kiss being pressed into his cheek as she sat down. Little moments like that were absent, gone, replaced by furious looks.

"Well then, maybe it's time I do something. No more sitting around and talking about it. No more stalling and holding off on my plans. Maybe it's time for some bloody action." Harry expressed his own thoughts out loud as resolve grew in the pit of his stomach and grew from there, his eyes hardening and his face going rigid.

"What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what I said," he bit out. "Do you all think me so simple that I can't see what's been going on?" he almost spat out. "That Patrice is trying to stop my plans with Malfoy from going forward so that I can reconsider my decision for including the Pavlovs? Do you really think I don't know that Cyrus is intentionally taking his time to get all the numbers done? I talked with Arvid and he's not been given instructions to even start preparing anything," Harry had his own correspondance with Ackerly, he wasn't staying ignorant and fully hands off on the legal, political and financial side. He knew he could trust them to not betray him but that did not mean they couldn't act in what they believed was best for him, against what Harry actually wanted them to do.

Daphne paled at Harry's words. She obviously was aware of the stalling tactics, she might even be complicit. Harry had noticed, on more than one occasion, that things he discussed with Daphne would be known by Cyrus. To Harry, it didn't feel like she was spying on him, more just keeping her father informed. It wasn't something to be wary of, in Harry's opinion, it was something to be aware of, however.

"I laid it out to them. I'm bringing in the Pavlov's and Malfoy is the ticket to prove I'm serious about doing what's necessary to win." His jaw was set and his mind made up. Harry rose from the chair. He shouldn't have waited to do this for so long. He needed to act and act now.

"Where are you going?" Daphne blurted out with urgency.

"Malfoy Manor." Harry replied tersely and as he did so he summoned his bag, the one containing his Deathly Hallow. He took brisk strides and gathered everything else he had planned for this. He was just missing a single item but he would go into the muggle world for it first. While he was there, he may as well get some food as the plan was going to be happening after dinner.

Harry pulled out his cloak, one that Daphne wouldn't know as it wasn't the one the Delacours could attest to giving him. He looked back at Daphne, her face flittered between horror and worry. She appeared to be on the verge of saying something but Harry wasn't going to let her get in another word before his departure.

"Better run and tell Cyrus, he'll need to know I'm done waiting," with his final words said, he threw on the cloak and most of him vanished, he didn't actually want to make use of it until he was re-entering Hogwarts. He stepped out of the door and threw a strong locking spell on it, knowing Daphne wouldn't be able to overpower it and it would last only a few minutes, he just needed a clean getaway.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry took a deep breath. This was it.

Dobby had popped him well outside the ward line and he was making his way, step by step towards the Malfoy grounds. It had taken a few minutes to hike his way through the surrounding forest but he had done it.

It was a strange thing he was experiencing. He couldn't see anything different. His eyes were deceiving him. Just from the looks of things there was a wild growth field in front of him. It had looked this way since he'd been able to make anything out past the treeline.

While his sight was telling his brain one thing, his magical senses were telling him something entirely different. There was an unmistakable feeling of strong protective magic. He could feel the wards, every step brought him closer and the feeling grew stronger. He couldn't be more than fifty yards from the wardline now.

He felt it and as he got closer, he could feel other flavors of magic, most of them dark, deadly and oppressive. His skin prickled and his hair was standing on edge. As he trudged forward, his thoughts raced.

This was his first real field test of his family heirloom. He remembered the tests, he _knew_ what he expected to happen but there was no margin of error here. He either was going to walk through the wards unmolested or he was going to die a very painful death.

Harry's throat felt constricted, his breathing was becoming labored, faster and shallower than it should be, he was far too in shape, physically, for this to be happening. He could feel his shirt was sticking to him, his body beginning to perspire, though he was not, as of yet, sweating. His heart was hammering in his chest; it was so loud he couldn't hear hit footfalls any longer.

He tried to control his breathing, force himself to breathe deeply, slowly, to force himself to calm. He'd been in life and death situations before. He could handle this. He'd be fine. He had tested this with Fleur and knew this would work.

If that was so, why were his hands so clammy, why was he so bloody nervous that the burger and fries he'd scarfed down earlier were trying to make a reappearance.

As much as Harry wanted to equate this to his previous life and death circumstances, this one was different. He wasn't trying to save a philosopher's stone, he wasn't saving his best mates's little sister, he wasn't saving himself, and others, from hordes of soul sucking dementors, and he wasn't facing down a horde of Acromantulas that wanted to rip his and his companion's limbs off. All of the circumstances had a forced aspect to it. He had to do something _or else_.

There was no _or else_ here. Harry had tried to bring it up to equality with the others, with his own justifications, but even he couldn't deceive himself. This was premeditated murder. This was the first preemptive strike in a conflict he hoped he could end before it began.

Sure, the piece of shit deserved death, dozens of times over even, but who made Harry Potter judge, jury and executioner? If he was going to just kill off his opponents, where would he stop? What gave him the right to decide for some and not for others?

Harry shook his head and kept his feet moving forward, the air being more and more saturated with magic with each step. He didn't need to get into another moral debate within his head again, he'd been torturing himself enough with that. No doubt the sanctimonious Dumbledore would say this was the path to becoming like Riddle. He'd told Harry it was his choices that kept him from being the second coming of the Dark Lord.

He was almost at the fulcrum point. He could feel the buzz of magic, his hairs were standing on end. Harry shut his eyes and pulled his cloak tighter. This was it, he dared not to reach his hand forward because he knew it would connect with the wards.

Harry opened his eyes and found his vision hazy. His hands were jittery and he felt like he was on the verge of being sick.

This was it. Do or die, literally.

He didn't dare take a full step, he couldn't risk the tip of his toes coming out from under the cloak and being put under the effects of the wards. He didn't want to know what was going to happen. He could feel the sinister enchantments better now. They made him shiver, they made his body quake, knowing he was going to be in for a quick and incredibly painful end. All his work, all his planning, the entirety of his parent's sacrificed in a single second if he was wrong about this.

His trousers clung to his legs, his feet inched forward, his head was bowed and staring at his feet. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. All of his will was forcing him forward.

This was going to work.

It had to.

He couldn't die a virgin. He couldn't die making his first proactive move of his life.

He kept pushing forward the feeling of magic reaching its height. He was right in the middle of the ward.

He shut his eyes and let out a breath, exhaling out a massive chunk of the stress he had just been under. As the breath escaped his lungs he could feel his whole body loosening, relaxing.

That didn't mean he was through, he still had to be ultra careful.

Harry kept inching forward until he was sure he was fully through the wardline.

Once clear, he lowered himself to the ground, his knees finding the immaculate grass and his bum resting on his heels.

Theoretically he knew he would be okay but apparently his body had not agreed. He needed to stop and center himself. This had to go off without a hitch. He couldn't leave a trace of his magic, meaning no use of his wand, and he could not allow noise or physical objects to stop him.

This was really an impossible task without Dobby's inside knowledge. It was beyond stupid to just allow the elf to leave their service. The pompous pureblood would now pay for mistreating his elf for so many years.

He'd gone over the plan with Dobby, over and over and over again. He'd broken it down into stages. He'd gotten through the wards, stage one complete. Harry was now onto stage two, crossing the grounds.

There weren't magical traps, there were no bloodhounds roaming around the grounds, searching for a scent, all he had to worry about was being seen. The Malfoy grounds were a part of the prestigious effects meant to show off their wealth and power. Acres of manicured landscaping tirelessly maintained by the elves.

He had to cross an acre of ground that any of the South facing windows would see. It wasn't traps that were the concern, but the elves and someone noticing his approach. He'd chosen dusk for a reason, the sun was setting and any impressions he made in the lawn should be unnoticeable.

The Potter heir had considered going in the dark but had thought better of it. It would be more difficult to see and navigate the shrubs, fountains, peacocks and elves. He couldn't allow himself to bump into anything, to allow a disturbance that was noticeable.

Harry took a look around again, it was exactly as Dobby had described it. Nothing had changed in the time he had been away, nothing that he could tell anyway. He had to admit it was a lovely landscape. Rows of hedges without even a leaf out of place, grass that was perfectly uniform and was thick and lush. Stone fountains were around and all looked to be in a perfect state. The streams of water shooting out with crystal clear water, the noise tranquill.

He knew how much work this was, he'd tended to his Aunt's garden for years. House Elves were beyond wonderful creatures. He loved Dobby and appreciated him greatly.

His heart rate was far more tolerable now. It was still elevated above the norm but it was no longer beating with such intensity that he could feel his own pulse. His breathing was deep and through his nose, he wasn't heaving breaths. The most nerve wracking part of the infiltration was over. He still had to stay under his cloak the entire time, to prevent detection and being affected by any magical defenses, within the home and wards, but there should only be one real possibility of mishap here tonight, provided everything went according to plan.

The one thing he couldn't fully control was whether the blighter was even home or not. Harry couldn't help but think this would be an awful lot of trouble for nothing if that was the case.

Worry and doubt filled his head. If his cloak snagged on a bush he could be detected, if he bumped into something and knocked it over they would know an intruder is there, a portrait would more than likely notice _any _disturbance.

He'd planned this. He'd prepared for this. He'd walked up and down the Chamber of Secrets, the area where he'd met the sixteen year old Tom Riddle. Walking up and down the stone in the silent room. Learning how to keep his feet from making noise as they stepped down. He had to ensure his feet never dragged and he could never allow the cloak to become unfastened and expose himself. Hour after hour he had practiced.

This wasn't a last minute gamble.

No doubt Daphne was informing Cyrus. Cyrus would contact Horace and Patrice. They'd wait for him to be done and hope that their only hope to defeat the mad man wasn't getting himself convicted of murdering a pureblood Head of House. If he bungled the attempt, he was more than likely going to be dead, this wasn't something that was _allowed _a margin for error.

In no time, with his thoughts running wild, he made it across the grass, neatly avoiding any flower beds, bushes, and fountains. He'd kept off the stone pathways, Dobby had said the elves monitor them for cleanliness periodically, it would never do for Lucius, Narcissa or Draco to see even a single blade of grass along their stone walkways through their grounds.

Harry squinted his eyes as he looked around for the entrance that he was supposed to find. There was a ground level stone deck that had a low railing. The entrance, from within the home, was an open air door. There was magic in place to keep the temperature inside as it was meant to be and the wind was kept at bay as well, unless they wanted a breeze to come through the home. It was an obscenely ostentatious feature and entirely unnecessary.

But it suited his purpose _perfectly_. How else would he have broken in undetected? Would he have had to have hoped for an open window? Would he have to sneak in through the front doors? The elves popped from the interior to the exterior. The Malfoys used the floo or apparated to leave, they didn't exit the home like muggles anytime they wanted to go somewhere.

He made his way onto the deck, being _ever_ so careful to not step out of his cloak. The flat of his shoes slowly making their way down from the railing onto the decking. His descent was as it needed to be, silent and without disturbance.

Harry peered in through the windows, this was the great room, the room they'd host balls and major events. The room being large enough for the entire Dursley home. The wealth on the walls, statues, pictures, portraits, and other items would be worth more than it as well. Harry ignored them all. He cared not for their accumulation of trophies and wealth on display.

It was as if making it through the grounds was a walk in the park. Now that he was in the home, proper, his heartbeat picked up again. His wand slipped into his hand, though he'd do _everything_ he could to not need it. If it came down to it though…if he was detected…he would not be dying quietly tonight, not after he made it through the wards.

If things went horribly wrong, Malfoy Manor would meet Cuddles. The little dragon was in his bag and this place would get a full dose of draconic destruction if he was caught here. It was the entirety of his backup plan. It was pretty damn straightforward, if detected, release a fucking dragon in their home and burn the whole place to the ground. Smash the foundations and make it a smoldering wreck, a tribute to just how deadly a dragon could be.

It took far more self control than he was willing to admit to not let the little dragon become a massive dragon that was going on a rampage. He'd love to see Draco's face when he heard a dragon levelled his home and reduced his parents to ash, blown away in the wind. Let him see if he could keep his cocky attitude and his sense of invulnerability because he was a _Malfoy_ then.

Harry blinked and cleared his thoughts of that idea, no matter how appealing it was. He needed to make it out of the room. Dobby had given him strict instructions. He made his way to the left, upon entering the room, and kept to the outside of the room. His eyes scanned left and right, he felt twitchy and he could scarcely breath for fear of being overheard.

Forcibly, he kept his body under control, he couldn't lose composure, not here, not now.

Step by step he made his way across the ludicrously large room. He saw portraits moving, he could see the effects of a gentle breeze outside the windows as the last rays of sunshine came pouring in through the windows.

Harry _finally_ crept his way out of the room and made his way into the main entry hall. He looked at the stairs and bit back a curse. He had to make it all the way up to the master level, the third level of the home. He made it to the base of the stairs without issue and began the long ascent. Step by step, he had to be _oh, so very careful_.

This was the main part of the home. If he knocked over anything in this entry hall the _entire_ home would hear it. Besides that, the walls were littered with portraits. People moved, they watched, they talked and each one was a potential downfall for him.

Harry's right foot landed on the top step of the second level and he slowly shifted his weight to it, his fingers squeezing his wand and his offhand held his cloak forward, allowing his legs free movement in front of him, so they never fell out of the cloak for even a fraction of a second.

Harry crept around to the landing of the second staircase and shut his eyes. He pictured himself flying through the air, just for the fun of it. He let his mind calm, his heart rate slow, he lowered his breathing rate and got himself under control again. This was far more nerve-wrecking than he'd thought it could've possibly been.

It was hard to be nervous when you were fleeing from a basilisk. There wasn't time to think when a whole colony of spiders descended upon you. Adrenaline took over and you did what you had to do to survive. But this wasn't like that.

There was no _fight or flight_. He was choosing not to flee, he was consciously undertaking a harrowing and dangerous task. Harry was suppressing his will to battle. He could unleash his restrained magic, he could create transfigured creations that would shield him and wreak havoc across the home. He could allow Cuddles to grow to her full size and demolish this home but he couldn't. He didn't allow his body to rule him, his iron will kept him focused and on task. Sneak into the study of Lucius Malfoy and _end him_.

He was up another set of stairs, his footwork had been flawless thus far and he was fully undetected. He slowly moved down the hallway, each motion carefully measured and meticulous. Dobby had been insistent on this part. The hallway was wider than the normal homes he had been in, but they were not so wide that a quick entrance from one of the rooms could lead to him being bumped into. All along the walls were displays, he saw plates, plaques, trophies, swords, armor, paintings, portraits, vases, stone statues and more as he stared down the hallway.

He had to make it all the way down to the end. The final doors on the opposite ends of the hallway being the master bedroom and the master study. Narcissa had her own room, for her own uses, though she did share a bed with Lucius on occasion, according to Dobby anyways. Draco's room was the second on the right, right beside his mommy's room. He wanted to snicker at that, and had when Dobby told him, but he couldn't allow for that noise now.

In some ways this hallway was the easiest of all. There was a carpet that was probably worth more than he was willing to consider that kept it so easy to keep from making noise. Yet, at the same time, the narrowness, compared to the wide staircase and massive rooms on the main floor, could quickly become an issue. If someone suddenly exited a room, he'd have very little space to avoid them. If a pair of people walked side by side then Harry would have to hug the wall to be certain he'd not be blocking them. With all the objects on stands along the corridor, that would be troublesome.

Harry shut his eyes and took another deep breath, opening them when he was finished exhaling. This was it. The final hurdle to cross to get where he needed to be.

He stalked forward, carefully, silently. Each step as quiet as he could be. He moved around a suit of armor and kept to the left wall, only breaking out from the wall to avoid objects. He could feel his body wanting to elevate his heart rate, he could feel the nervous tension across all his muscles, no part of him was actually in a relaxed state. His senses were hyper aware.

Oh, how he wished to use his wand. Bringing to life the armour, animating it and hardening it to magical attacks all in one swish of his wand. How he longed to withdraw Cuddles and let her fly forward and scout for him, burning anything that dared to move in the room. He wished he could unleash his magic but he couldn't. Stealth was the name of the game, no matter how much he wished it wasn't.

Harry was now past the first few rooms and he was sneaking past Draco's. He had to suppress a snicker. On the door was an overly romanticized green and silver dragon. How fucking cliché. What pompous arses these lot were. If Draco was anything, he was a flobberworm. He was built to slither on the ground and eat dirt while serving at the whims of others. He and his ilk were naught but cannon fodder for the ranks of the delusional Dark Lord.

Harry was broken out of his thoughts by something that equally worried and excited him. He could hear a voice, a female voice coming from what Dobby had told him was Nacissa Malfoy's room.

Harry decided to pick up his speed, he wanted to get to the far wall at the end of the hallway as soon as possible. If it wasn't the right timing, he wanted to be in position to see or hear what was going on and be as close as possible for when the setting was just right for him to make his move.

Getting past the next set of doors was when he could hear the muttering the most. It must be Narcissa Malfoy, this was her room that the voice was coming from. She was talking to herself though he could not make the words out through the mostly closed door.

He paused his movements and quickly debated the merits of trying to peek into her room or not. If there was someone else in there with her then it would be best that he was aware of it. His wand itched in his hands and he leveled it at the door, from under his cloak, just in case it came to that.

WIth a muted sigh he knew staying hidden was far more important, he crept down the hall, all the while keeping his ears strained for any more noises. His heart was hammering in his chest again, he was in position, at the end of the hall.

This was _actually_ going to happen.

Harry prepared himself mentally. All he had to do was slip into Malfoy's study and then wait for the opportunity. He glanced at the door and then blinked in realization.

There was a door. And the door was _closed_.

Fuck!

What an oversight! Dobby had told him about how the entry into the study would not allow anyone to enter that didn't have permission. Harry knew it was warded, much like Arcturus' old office was but he had forgotten to consider there was an actual bloody door!

What the bloody hell was he going to do now? Wait for someone to open it for him and then slip in? What if Lucius left by floo, or what if he wasn't even here in the first place!

Harry was distracted from his understandable freak out when he saw someone exiting Narcissa's room.

Oh, Merlin! He wanted to groan, he wanted to tear his eyes away but he just… couldn't.

Narcissa Malfoy had come out of her room and had turned, striding purposefully right towards Harry. It was like she was a model walking down the runway. A Victorian lingerie model that is.

Harry's eyes bulged as he took in the sight. She was wearing pink negligee, the base fabric was see through and showing off her supple figure, more than any decent woman would ever allow anyone other than their husband to see. A row of frilly lace dropped down from the shoulders and covered her bustline, flowers accentuating the beauty of the clothing and a bow was centered right in the middle of her two breasts.

Every step she took, he could see the upper parts of her boobs bouncing, they were virtually unrestrained. Harry swallowed, hard, and couldn't keep his eyes from drifting lower. The silk fabric fell from the only place it was tight against her body, her chest, and the bottom parts of the shirt ballooned out and bounced off the tops of her hips as she moved, all the skin of her taut stomach being easily visible through the sheer soft-pink silk.

The top didn't even cover more than the very top of her thighs. Her smooth pale legs were on full display, just a hint of fabric from her sheer silk panties blocked a few millimeters of them. It was mesmerizing watching those long legs move, her high heels helping to accentuate things further.

Harry tore his thoughts away from the blonde bombshell walking towards him.

He couldn't be caught. He couldn't allow this to distract him!

But for Merlin's sake, did she have to be so fucking hot? This was Narcissa Malfoy! She was supposed to be Draco's mom, cold, aloof and an unattractive bitch.

Not… this.

If there was a time to thank Slughorn's underhanded forced tutelage on not bowing to the whims of his sex addled hormones, it was now.

Harry steeled himself and kept focused. There was only one place Narcissa could be headed.

He watched as she continued and kept his ogling under control, that's not to say he didn't ogle her though, he was a male teenager and the woman, on almost full display, looked closer to twenty than forty. Her hair was done up with a white silk crown sitting on top of her blonde hair, keeping it off her face but allowing it to drop down to the sides of her face, upon her shoulders and down her back.

It was like there was a war being fought within him. One part of him was nervous as all be that there was someone approaching him and he had to push himself as far away as possible, to avoid discovery. While a whole other part of him, one fueled by libidinous thoughts, wanted nothing more than to get closer, to improve the view.

He kept chanting over and over in his head 'this is Draco's mom!' He hoped his body would cooperate and want nothing to do with the place between her legs that Draco had been birthed from.

Yes! That was working, think of Draco's pale ass face coming out from there.

_Wait! _Why in the name of Merlin's saggy bollocks would he _ever_ _voluntarily_ think about that.

He had to stay on task, be focused, and put his training with Lucia to good use. He could stay in control and not let his hormones rule him.

Harry slowly crept back and put his back against the wall, he would be a few feet away from her and his heart couldn't stop racing. As great as his mental game was at keeping himself out of his lustful urges's control, she was still a damn fine specimen of womanhood.

Narcissa got to the door and slipped her wand out, from who knows where, since he didn't think there was enough fabric to hide anything in, and used a silent spell to knock for entry. Harry smirked under his invisibility cloak, a pureblood witch like her wouldn't sully her hands with knocking like a muggle.

His eyes dipped down her body, the unbroken line of silk frills, the one that covered her bust and rose up over her shoulders dropped down and circled together right at the crest of her pert rear. The entirety of her back was open, her flawless skin of full display.

She had twisted ninety degrees to face the door and Harry was facing her at a forty-five degree angle from behind her. It was a perfectly horrible angle. The line of frills covered the front of her breasts but left the _entire_ side open, open and on full display for him. His eyes sunk lower though.

However little fabric covered between her legs, in the front, there was less covering her _delectable_ arse and it was horrendously, gloriously, see through!

His eyes were glued to her rear! He couldn't look away!

It just hadn't ever dawned on him how _sexy_ an arse could be!

With Fleur, he'd kneaded hers while they made out but the majority of his attention had been his complete fascination with her well developed chest. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't really spent any time focusing on that part of her anatomy, nor any other girls.

Well, that's not completely true… now that he thought about it. He _had_ noticed his teammates's arses when they were on broomstick, a couple of the Hufflepuffs and especially Cho's…

Huh, did that make him an arse man?

His eyes focused back after his wandering thoughts and they took in the _incredible_ form of Draco's mom's shapely rear.

Yeah. He'd have no problems if he was an arse over tits kinda guy.

But that wasn't necessarily true of him. He couldn't stop himself from admiring the side of her bust and he'd never given Fleur's rear nearly as much thought as her fabulous breasts.

Harry mentally shook himself. What in the bloody hell was he doing!

His mind was debating the merits between being an arse or tits man all while perving on Draco's mom. _Draco's _mom, for Merlin's sake!

A corner of his mind whispered, within his thoughts, that if this wasn't Draco's mom, it would've be like the best free show of his life, not including the awkwardness of his time with Lucia and Fleur or the fact that she was part Veela and that might not be fair to witches everywhere, to be measured up against a magical race known for their unearthly beauty.

There was _definitely_ something wrong with Harry, he knew it for certain now.

Here he was, in the middle of an operation that would lead to the death of someone, for certain, and he's being a hormonal teenager and the fix for that was to beat himself for being hormonal instead of focusing?!

This moment was lasting too long, it was too surreal! _Answer the damned door you evil ingrate, Lucius Malfoy!_ How the bloody hell could he allow such a fine specimen of femininity just linger at his door!

If there was one thing Harry could be entirely thankful for, it was that somehow, amazingly, he kept quiet through this whole endeavor, that no part of him slipped out of the cloak. It was a bloody miracle!

His heart was racing again and he didn't want to even dwell on how much of it was sexual excitement and how much was that he was possibly, hopefully, finding a way to gain entry to where his final objective was.

He would _not_ think about it.

Most definitely not, he'd focus on hardening himself for what he needed to do and keeping his wand at the ready.

Oh Merlin. His thoughts were betraying him! They were on point but filled with all manners of sexual innuendo! He couldn't escape it!

Mercifully the door opened widely and a voice broke the silence.

"Come in, darling." No matter how much of an endearing kind of affectionate way of referring to his wife that was, his dismissive and annoyed tone made it in no way either of those things. Though Harry could only see one eye, he saw it flash with anger and he could see a slight blush across _all _of her body.

What was he about to walk in on? Harry was aghast, just now realizing she was not dressed like this because it was a comfortable outfit. His stomach threatened to spew its contents once more. Harry's free hand shot to his mouth and he couldn't suppress the involuntary gags.

No. Not this. He didn't want to see _them_ trying to make a mini-Draco.

Narcissa stepped into the room, her tight arse bouncing in a heavenly way, attracting Harry's attention, his body not able to figure out if this is a wonderful or terrible thing.

Harry swallowed and hoped it was enough to keep from gagging again. He had a decision to make and it had to be made in a split second. Should he enter the room, yes or no?

His heart was trying to beat out of his chest and he could feel himself freeze up as indecision overtook him.

Harry took a small quick step forward. He hadn't come this far to back down now. As fast as he dared to move, Harry made his way into the room, the door hadn't closed, if it had closed while he was in the doorway...no, that didn't bear thinking about.

Harry looked around and wasn't surprised at how large the room was, how it was filled with displays of wealth and ornate furniture. Harry saw, through the next set of doors, Lucius Malfoy. The man was sitting behind his desk, a quill in his hand, and his head buried, focusing on the parchment that was in front of him. The man hadn't even noticed his wife walking towards him.

No, walking wasn't the right word, Harry's mind rejected that idea totally. Narcissa was _prowling_ toward the man. Her feet walking in a single perfect line, one high heel moving in front of the other in practiced, sexy and somehow aggressive movements.

If Lucius had looked up, he would have had to have callously ignored the incredible sight before him. Merlin, the woman wasn't trying to seduce him and Harry was having a hard enough time keeping the rational components of his brain working. The pleasure and disgust centers of his brain warring against one another.

Harry saw he really only had one option. If Lucius closed those doors, he would never get in. He _had_ to take another chance and creep his way into the corner. If there was a God, he prayed that He would be merciful and he wouldn't be stuck sitting through the _rutting_ of Draco's parents.

How Lucius didn't bother to look up from his paper, when his wife had just prowled into the room Harry could never understand. How fucking humiliating would that be for Narcissa. She was all dressed up, like a Victorian whore, doing her utmost to entice her husband and he didn't even have enough respect to greet the woman when she entered into his office.

What a prick!

Nevertheless, Harry was glad it had occurred this way. With Narcissa not facing him, she was focused on her husband, and Lucius not looking up, neither of them stood a chance at detecting him. If Lucius noticed anything, out of the corner of his eye, his wife would be the obvious source, not the undetectable, by magic, Boy-Who-Is-About-To-Murder-You.

This entire sequence had been an incredible stroke of luck. If she hadn't been coming in here, Harry would have stood in that hallway for a long time, he may have not even gotten a chance, with the man being locked away in his office.

Narcissa cleared her throat and Harry smirked, he was now in the back corner of the room. Unless Lucius needed something from the bookshelf behind him, he should be good to stay standing where he was. Given what was in front of him, Harry's mind couldn't come up with a single reason why he'd want a dusty old book over Draco's far too enticing mother.

"What can I do for you, darling?" He drawled out in a superior tone without even looking up. The man deserved to be murdered just on principle for continuing to ignore the blonde beauty in front of him.

"I've had _enough, husband_." If Harry was her husband, the acid words would have startled him.

Lucius' response was a single dismissive wave of his free hand, his other one was using the quill to scratch things onto the parchment he had yet to take his eyes off of.

She wasn't accepting that. Narcissa leaned over the desk and slammed her palms onto the desk. The move startled Harry.

Lucius Malfoy looked up now, his eyes taking in her appearance, he must have noticed the fury in his wife's face, at being so completely dismissed, and if he was a man that had _any_ interest in women he'd notice how the solitary line of silk that had kept her breasts covered failed to do so now.

Harry's breath stilled. The line of fabric that had been keeping her chest covered, had slipped beneath and all that was keeping them from being totally bare was the see-through soft-pink silk.

"I've _let_ you run this family. I've _let_ you have full autonomy and even, to my _great_ shame, let you fill our son's head with the supposed superiority of the Malfoy name. You've ignored my advice, you've set the stage for our _ruin,_" she growled, her chest heaving.

Harry did his best, he gave it at least a token effort, but, no matter how much he wanted to resist, that growling and those perfect pink nipples on those pale breasts drew the entirety of his attention. He should be planning, he should be preparing to be ready for anything but he couldn't. His body was betraying him, he _had_ to stare at the blonde enchantress in front of him.

"Odd, I didn't hear you complaining when _I_ grew our wealth to unforeseen heights. I didn't hear any complaints when _I _paid for your trips, your jewelry and all manners of frivolities. In fact, I didn't hear you say anything against our son when he returned from Hogwarts as one of the top scoring students." How the man dropped his eyes and focused back on his work when _she_ was in front of him, Harry couldn't comprehend.

Harry watched in amazement as Narcissa shifted tactics so readily. She stood up, fixed her top, and then sat down in the chair to her right, her bare legs crossing oh so very elegantly.

"Really?" She asked with a deceptively calm voice. "You don't recall me saying how using bribery was a short term option for political power? That cultivating allies or gaining lasting blackmail material would be better off in the long run?" She raised a finger to the top of her chest and then began running it around her chest, tracing the lines of her bosom. If the movements were meant to entice and draw the ire of a straight male, it was working, just not on the person she thought was the only other in the room with her.

"You don't remember me saying that your bribing is destroying our liquidity and if you kept it up, we could be in real trouble?" It was so very clear that her soft spoken words were filled with venom.

Harry hadn't been focused on Lucius, why would he have been? However, the second the man's hand slammed on the desk, Harry shifted his gaze to him, who knows what actions a volatile man might take.

It was obvious the man was _angry_, his face was red and he looked livid. "And what would you have me do now? We are where we are at. All I can do is _exactly_ what I am already doing, which is working to fix this mess, so the Malfoy name remains strong and prominent." He grit out.

Regardless of his anger, she pressed on, "How many lawsuits are we facing? How many are lining up now that Fudge has been removed from power and can't protect you?" Narcissa had stopped running her fingers across her body, to Harry, it seemed as though she'd given up on trying to seduce her husband. She was the perfection of composure, sitting with perfect posture and her face a blank mask, only her words gave anything away, being filled with equal parts concern and amusement.

"I don't know," Harry could hear just how much he loathed to admit that. "I'm meeting our representation tomorrow and trying to prepare for it now." Lucius added almost under his breath.

"Have you sent a letter to your son yet, updating him on our situation?" Harry didn't miss how she referred to Draco as Lucius' son, not their joint son, when Narcissa asked with no pity nor concern for her own circumstance. When she didn't get an immediate reply, she pressed on. "With the Potter boy's scores at the ICW, and they are not fabricated, I checked, he had best learn that the only way to compete against him now is with financial and political power, two areas where your son has no natural ability." Harry was struck by her words, her distancing from Draco and her almost complimentary words on his abilities, it surprised him.

"I've already sent _another_ letter. With Cyrus overtly joining him we cannot afford Draco antagonizing him." Harry couldn't see his face this time but he imagined those words were difficult to accept.

"Yes, the new Regent Black will have the House of Malfoy bent right over. I won't ask if you plan to request his aid, but do you plan to grovel to Cyrus and at least ask for some lubricant?" The casual way she threw out the words made Harry's jaw drop. He had no idea what their marriage had been like but if this conversation was indicative of anything, it was just a political match with no love between them, maybe even a contempt-filled union.

Lucius had an ugly sneer on his face as he glared at his wife. "Did you come here _dressed_," he sneered the word, "like a wanton whore to offer your body to someone instead of them suing us?" There was no kindness in his words.

Narcissa stood up, her chin held high as she brought herself to full height, and let out a tinkling laugh. "No, dear husband. I'm a Black. There will be cause for the dissolution of our marriage and I'll be asking for it," she let the words sink in before turning to depart the room.

After a few steps, just as she was exiting out the doors to the inner office she stopped and turned back. And goodness did she look alluring, her arse on full display, her upper torso turned, to give a significant view of her chest and tight body, "I just thought you might be interested in fucking someone one last time, we both know you're about to be royally fucked by all your _former_ associates." With that parting shot she swept out of the room, closing the door to the hall, Harry's eyes watched her swaying rear the entire way out of the office, he might not have been the only one.

Harry shut his jaw and a large smile blossomed on his face. He now had a heads up that Narcissa was going to request to become a Black again. But, more importantly, Lucius' jaw was open and he was all alone, completely unaware of his surroundings.

Harry knew this was his chance. Narcissa couldn't come back, not that she would, with the door now closed, unless Lucius allowed it. The man was vulnerable in his inner sanctum and he had no idea.

Harry's grin turned feral.

He'd been so nervous about this. Killing Lucius was going to be deliberate and done in cold blood. This was something that he had struggled with. His mind had battled all week, was he just another Riddle in training? Was killing your enemies like this morally wrong? What would his parents think?

Ever since the plan was concocted, he had struggled with wondering if he could even do the final deed. He had not expected Narcissa to be here just before he did the deed and there was no way he had fantasized about the woman being dressed like that. But it worked to his advantage.

He'd told himself he'd just do it and deal with the consequences later. His mind had been so entranced by Draco's mom's body that he hadn't had the time to worry. Now, with the perfect opportunity, he put the final parts of his plan into place.

He slipped his wand back into the holster, he wouldn't be using that now.

He calmed himself and focused, intent, willpower, creativity and power. He worked them all in conjunction and a silent wandless petrification spell left his hand, taking Lucius completely unaware.

Harry had seen the man's cane was propped against the desk beside him. Without his wand he was helpless, not that he could do anything, when petrified, with it anyways.

Harry stepped forward and was careful to stay under the cloak. From his bag, he withdrew the muggle bars of fudge he'd picked hours earlier. With a wave of his hand, the fudge liquified and began to leave his cloak in a brown stream.

His timing had been _perfect_. Lucius' jaw was lowered and his mouth open. Harry carefully controlled the fudge and worked it into the man's mouth. Ounce after ounce entered his mouth and Harry kept it going, visualizing it running down his throat, through his trachea and into every bronchi.

There was too much, the liquified fudge couldn't be forced in anymore, not without bursting his lungs. Harry kept control of his magic and shifted it, allowing the fudge to cool and permanently block the Malfoy's air passages.

He could hear Lucius gagging, trying to breath but there was no use. He was drowning in fudge. He was going to drown in fudge.

Harry didn't want to look, he didn't want to have the image of the man's final moments asphyxiation burned into his memory. There was only one way to exit the room, by the floo. Dobby told him it was open to exit from and Harry had tested that he would be able to floo out of a fireplace with his cloak on. How that worked, he had no idea but he wasn't going to complain.

Harry waited and counted down. He wondered if he should say something, a final taunt. His thoughts were torn between the mostly naked woman that had recently left the room and trying to keep his mind off of the fact he was in the process of murdering someone.

In the end, he kept silent. He wouldn't risk someone over hearing him. So far, if there was any recording magic working, all that could possibly be seen was fudge appearing from nowhere and Lucius choking. There would be no clues as to this being pulled off by Harry Potter.

Within a minute the man would be unconscious and within a few minutes he would be dead. He counted to sixty, twenty iterations of un, deux, trois, and then made his way to the floo. He stepped into the fire and thought his destination, The Leaky Cauldron, all with one final thought in his head.

If Lucius Malfoy had fucked his wife, one last time, he'd still be breathing.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Made a mistake in the last AN, it's been corrected now. Salazar Slytherin's views are not my own. It's an imagination of his character and personal story that I came up with. How his left went affects his beliefs and how he wrote his memoirs.
> 
> Thanks to Nauze & Triage for the beta work!
> 
> Stay safe and covid-19 free everyone!
> 
> Thanks to all those who read, comment, bookmark and give kudos. Feel free to join the discord, the link is in my profile.


	39. Of Love, Rituals & Veela

It was kind of crazy what an abrupt change of circumstances could result from a single conversation. Here Harry was, heading to the Delacour home. The last time he was here, Harry had felt like he had a family, like he belonged somewhere, as just Harry, not as the Boy-Who-Lived. This time though, he was heading there with a feeling of dread.

Patrice had requested that he'd be the host for the next meeting, and since it wasn't difficult to get an international floo, both Cyrus and Horace were fine with it. But those men weren't the source of his feeling of impending doom. No, that was the result of him finding out both Daphne and Fleur would be here. This being the first meeting since he unintentionally got a show from Narcissa Malfoy and put an end to the life of Lucius Malfoy.

As if it wasn't going to be enough to have his advisors annoyed at what they would believe was his rash action. Why the two girls had to attend _this_ particular meeting was beyond him. Well, that wasn't completely true. He knew Daphne had been the one to tell her father that Harry was going to attempt to kill Malfoy. And Fleur's presence must be because it is her family home, but there might also be some other reason for her attendance, though he had no idea what it could be.

Upon arriving at the home, he greeted the hosting family, shook hands and received words of welcome from Patrice, while Apolline had given him a warm hug and Gabrielle had latched onto him, not letting go until he had passed his pet dragon to her.

The adorable little girl had shrieked and run off, her hair being blown back by the speed of her departure, her hands had been reaching, trying to grasp the little dragon that had wriggled out of her hold, and was quickly making her escape.

Harry had expected he'd be ushered into a meeting with the advisors but he was not. He found himself having tea with Apolline, just Apolline.

"I'm glad you were able to come, 'arry," she began their discussion, her voice warm and welcoming, as if she was really glad the young man who had just broken her precious daughter's heart was having tea with her. He might've been worried about poison but the oaths they had sworn would have never allowed it. Nevertheless, the warm welcome was making him far more nervous than the cold one he'd been expecting to receive.

"Thanks for having me," he muttered as he tested out the tea, it was no longer steaming but it still may be too hot for his tongue. Carefully he tipped the cup and a few drops dribbled into his mouth. Hot but not too hot, he took a proper drink.

"I'll start out by letting you know that I was the one to request Patrice to find a way to get you here. I knew you'd be reluctant given recent events, but it was important, so here we are," she brought her own cup up to her mouth, her posture, the way she drank, everything really, just screamed and shouted beauty, elegance and showed how fine of a lady she was. In olden times, she would be no less than the daughter of a noble house, one men would dream to have as their wife and one that would catch even the eyes of a prince. The Delacour matriarch was a queen within her own palace here.

"I thought it odd that we were meeting here," Harry stated neutrally, not wanting to give much away until he knew what was going on here.

"I trust you will recall I am bound to keep your secrets and that I am supporting you as you prepare for what is to come," Harry's eyebrows rose of their own volition, this was sounding more and more ominous to his ears.

Harry nodded and kept his face passive, though his fingers were holding onto the cup and saucer as if allowing them to fall would end the world as he knew it.

"I trust my daughter has told you about how Veela are more sensitive to magic?"

Harry dipped his head again then lifted it in a slow, deliberate manner.

"Good, it will make this easier," she said with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Tell me, Harry, how close are you to finishing your rituals, it must be complete soon, no?"

Harry almost dropped his cup and saucer in shock, his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing. "You can sense this as well?" he asked, recalling how Dumbledore was also aware of them.

"Yes, I've known since I met you. At first, I thought you were doing a simple set, like some of the old families still do," Harry had thought there might be some recrimination there but there was not, these were just facts to her.

"And you don't think it's a short ritual set now?" Harry questioned the assumption in her last comment, he wanted to gather more information before revealing anything.

"No," she said firmly, "your magic hasn't settled, it is in flux, changed every time we meet. Perhaps, if we were to see each other each day it would be harder to notice, but when I see you so seldomly, it is hard not to notice. As it has continued beyond seven weeks, I do not believe you are doing a set of seven on the seventh day as I first thought."

"Are you knowledgeable on the topic of rituals?" Harry put a cracker in his mouth to help hide just how interested he was in the answer.

"All Veela are, they have to be." This conversation was becoming more surprising by the second, the entire time he had been here was not even in the same country as the script he expected to follow today.

"Why would they have to be?" he asked, following up with the question that was begging to be asked.

"Veela are secretive. We are protective of ourselves, we have to be," she took a dainty bite of a biscuit and washed it down with some tea. Damn, she knew how to ratched up suspense, Harry thought.

"Before revealing more, would you tell me how many rituals you are doing?" The casual tone was there but they both knew the question was anything but.

"Forty-nine," his answer caused her to immediately still, color draining from her cheeks.

Apolline drew in a short breath and gently placed her tea and saucer down. "Non," she said with a small degree of desperation, "what drove you to attempt such madness?"

Harry smiled tightly. "I believe I forgot to bring Patrice into this. Both Horace and Cyrus are aware. It was not meant as a slight or to withhold the information…" Harry said, if they were determined to stay on good terms with him, he wouldn't be giving them any fodder that may be turned against him.

"There is no insult, after revealing what you have, I would not dare to think you're keeping any pertinent information from us, none that we must be made aware of. You are entitled to your secrets, everyone is, and we accept your judgement on whether we should be aware of something, or not." There was such a warmth to her tone that Harry couldn't help but believe she is a fantastic mother. Apolline just had a way of being warm and welcoming, even when there could be cause for discord.

"I stumbled across a ritual set designed and written in parseltongue by Salazar Slytherin. It is what I am completing." Harry scrutinized the woman closely, to see how she reacted. It wasn't the flash of surprise that he found odd, it was the fear that he didn't understand.

Ashen faced, Apolline whispered her next words, "You know the rumors of Salazar's descendants?"

"Which ones?" Harry asked quietly, he knew, but, just as before, he wished to hear what she was aware of.

His question had somewhat of an unintended consequence. Apolline spruced up, her back straightened and she returned to her regal form, the one that came so naturally to her. "Every so often, a parseltongue claims to be the heir, many of them show great promise, as far as magical talents are concerned, and though there had been few through the annals of history, some rumors have persisted, for many centuries, that Salazar cursed his own line, that the more powerful they become, the more unstable they are."

"Is this commonly known?" Horace and Cyrus hadn't brought this up directly, was this uncommon or was the oath Horace required his insurance against him going insane?

"To those who are well learned in the art of rituals, it is," Apolline answered simply, concern shining in her eyes as she watched him.

"The Sorting Hat warned me as much. That those who have tread the same path as me have all fallen." It was giving up information and, while Harry had been avoiding this, it just felt right to tell her about it.

"The Sorting Hat?" It wasn't that she was questioning the validity of what he said, her words were said as if she was trying to puzzle out what the Sorting Hat had to do with rituals.

"Can you keep a secret?" he asked, his face alight with humor at the almost rhetorical question.

She blinked once, her eyes narrowed slightly. "Of course," she said, it wouldn't be fair to say it was spoken in an affronted manner but there was a sliver of it in there, with the majority of it being veiled curiosity.

"My tutor is not alive," he stated and couldn't help but smirk as her jaw lowered and eyes widened as he'd broken her composure.

"Non. Even if you learned from the greatest wielders of magic in history, from their diaries, their memoirs, you couldn't have made the jump you have merely by reading and following their directions. You've come too far, too fast, for that."

Harry merely smiled, not saying anything for a moment. "How about you tell me what you wanted to, when you arranged this, and I'll explain more, after that is done," Harry was now coming to think that Apolline had arranged this for the purpose of imparting information, a warning, or something beneficial to him. Or, it may not be, it was always so difficult to tell.

Apolline appraised him while she took a sip of her tea, her eyes never straying from him, "I'll agree to that," she sat back and crossed her legs, resting her half finished tea and saucer on her leg, her left hand keeping it balanced.

"I'll get to the point, so you have time to talk as well then. Veela are more of a hybrid between magical creatures and witches. Our origins are shrouded in mystery, the history and likelihood of one theory over others is not, strictly speaking, relevant. There are two things I planned to inform you of, these are normally only told from one Veela to another or from a Veela to their mate." Left unsaid was that this was a break in protocol. Harry nodded his understanding that this was not meant to become public knowledge.

"Veela are knowledgeable about rituals because they have to be. There is a set of seven rituals that they must complete, upon their physical maturation, that marks the ending of their puberty. Without it, a young Veela will not balance their magic. I cannot say more, the details never leave the conclaves and all are bound from divulging them."

"I can respect that," Harry stated slowly, waiting to hear what the other part was. Daphne would have found this reveal more interesting, he simply didn't have the academic background, yet, to understand much about it.

"The second part is…_difficult_ to explain," she began, her lips pursed together after speaking. "I believe you know the difference between a weak and powerful wizard?" she waited for Harry's confirmation before continuing. "Good, that will make this easier. The more powerful you are, the more your actions influence your magic. As magic is a part of who you are, and makes up _what _you are, the effects of this are _incredibly_ pertinent to the powerful wizards, and witches, and especially for Veela."

"An integral part of being a Veela is their sexuality. It is a known fact. We have our allure, we are predispositioned to be beautiful and have sexual appeal to those we come into contact with. It is a part of us. It is not something we can ignore."

Harry didn't say anything yet. The point she was trying to make hadn't come about yet. He took a gulp of his tea and finished a biscuit while awaiting the rest of it.

"Veela are monogamous. They mate for life. If something happened to Patrice, there will never be another for me. The very idea is alien to me. I cannot even think of it," she had a look of disgust on her face, lips upturned, her nose scrunched and eyes squinting.

His first thought tumbled out of his mouth, "What does that mean for Fleur and me?" His thoughts were racing a mile a minute. Was this her way of saying Fleur was linked to him already, that she had no choice but to be with him now?!

"Allow me to skip over Fleur for now. I'd like to discuss you first. You are the far more fascinating case."

He did _not _like the sound of it, not a bit. There was nothing malicious in her tone or body language, however.

"Who are the three most powerful wizards of the last century?" she asked leadingly.

"Grindelwald, Dumbledore and You-Know-Who," Harry gave the obvious answer, perplexed as to where she was going with this.

"And can you tell me of any romantic entanglements they may have had?" she challenged him, an eyebrow arched and a knowing gleam in her eyes.

Harry thought about that. As long as Harry knew of Dumbledore there had never been any hints at a romantic partner of any kind. Riddle he knew even less about, and Grindelwald was only known to him though history texts, conversations with others and Flitwick's duelling pensive.

"No," he answered honestly, "I've not heard of any." Now that he thought on it more, it struck him as odd, shouldn't purebloods be vying to have offspring with them? From what he'd experienced, wouldn't they have been highly pursued?

"That is what I expected," she informed him. "Since Patrice has become aware of You-Know-Who's identity, he has researched and come up empty. Dumbledore and Grindelwald, however, a few rumors and a small set of facts lead to a conclusion, though it must be said, there is no concrete factual basis, even though I would argue it is, in fact, correct."

That sounded like Dumbledore had _never_ been in a relationship. How peculiar.

"Albus and Gellert were friends, that is known to a select few, and it was part of the reason your grandfather never trusted the man fully. Nevertheless, neither of them ever courted and the only romantic entanglements that were ever suspected of, for either of them, were each other."

Harry choked on his tea. "Dumbledore and Grindelwald?! Together? Romantically?!"

Apolline looked highly amused, a slight up ticking of the corner of her lips, "Yes, but, the topic of sexual preferences and the potential scandal there, if it was ever published, are not where I need you to focus."

Going from spitting out tea, to not being able to keep incredulity out of his voice and now, having heard that, blinking in surprise, Harry was quickly being put through a whirlwind of reactions. "Oookay…" he said, slowly, refocusing himself on the conversation, his mind blanking on what else could be more important than those scandalous topics.

"I trust you are aware, or can guess, what you have in common with those three men?" Apolline questioned, shifting the topic towards her end goal.

"What I have in common?" Harry parroted, his eyebrows knit together in thought, "Magical power?" He asked, unsure of the answer he gave. It wasn't immediately obvious to him, as in close to being rhetorical, he had thought it would be from the way she asked the query.

"Well yes, but that does not address the point I wanted to hit. Rituals, Harry, rituals," she repeated the word again, giving emphasis by repeating. "You have all undergone rituals." Apolline made the point abundantly with a third direct point.

"Really? How do you know?" It wasn't that he didn't believe her, in fact, he thought it was quite likely, now that he considered it, but he wanted to learn more about that. Voldemort, Harry already knew where he had found his knowledge. Dumbledore and Grindelwald though...he had no idea.

"For now, it's sufficient to know that I do," she held up her free hand to stall the counterargument that was on the tip of Harry's tongue. "The important point is how increased magical potential affects you…and I have a theory…well," she paused for a second, hesitance showing in the discussion for the first time from Apolline, "an educated guess, really, as to possible consequences."

If that didn't sound ominous, he didn't know what would. She laid out that the three men Harry was most often compared to, now, all had highly unsuccessful romantic lives and she had an idea on why that was. He sat up straighter and did his utmost to pay attention.

"What is magic, Harry? Is it power? Intent? Willpower? Imagination? Where does one end and the other begins? How do you differentiate your physical body from your magic? Are they connected, are they separate?"

It wasn't hard to tell she was aware there wasn't a precise answer. Apolline's questions were thought-provoking in nature.

"There is something we teach young Veela, even before they begin puberty. It is that, for Veela, actions have meaning. There is significance to kissing a boy, to lusting after them, to the words they speak," her tone was careful, cautious, controlled.

"Veela differ from witches, magically and physically. It is not just our silver hair and ethereal beauty that mark us as different," there was a faux haughtiness to her words that might have been mistaken for arrogance had she not had a coy smile on her lips. "Let's circle back to Dumbledore, Grindelwald and Riddle."

"Dumbledore had a single romantic interest and though he was offered _countless_ opportunities, especially after he ended a war with a duel, for marriage, courting, or a romantic entanglement of any kind. In all the years since then, he has not even been linked to a single man or woman, romantically."

"Grindelwald, after his broken…_friendship_ with Albus, was not known to have taken a lover. He had many opportunities, from witches of all backgrounds, even from Veela, and he never acted upon any. In fact, he always had a single-mindedness, a dogged determination to see his plans to fruition."

"You're completely sure of this?" Harry asked quietly, trying to work out within his own head what this meant to him and his situation.

Apolline bobbed her head, "Riddle, at one time, tried to negotiate with a Veela enclave to gain access to our collective knowledge on rituals. After he was refused, we believe he captured more than one Veela and tortured them for information. One of them was left for dead but was recovered and nursed back to health. While the transcript of her recounting is not well known, I can tell you he was not interested in women, he didn't seek to gratify himself. He sought knowledge and power," her eyes had turned distant as she spoke of the incident.

"Here, Harry, is where I begin the guesswork, the theorizing," she put down her tea and folded her hands on her lap, still sitting up straight, the picture perfect lady of grace and elegance.

"All three of them completed rituals quite young, in their adolescence. All three are not known to have had any romantic interests after their rituals. The two who were rumored to be in a relationship, with one another, seemed to have never moved on. The other is not known to have ever been in one."

Harry could see where this was going but let her continue, it was painting a pretty obvious conclusion, once he filled in the rest of the picture.

"Emotions are tied to magic, this is well known. I _wonder_ if the increase in magical density has a correlating effect on the emotions of the individual and their magic. That once their _unbalanced_ magic was set, balanced, it also set their romantic interests."

Fuck. He really hoped that wasn't the conclusion she was leading to.

"That's only a few points of data and some of the important facts, like known and unknown romantic interests are just _rumors_." Harry slowly said after taking a minute to process what she'd speculated.

"It's true. Riddle could have had a love interest as a teen. He could have when he left England and there was gossip that Bellatrix Lestrange was a little _too _devoted…it is also possible Albus has had a secret lover that he's kept quiet about, but tell me, which scenario is more likely? Think about that, Harry."

Harry rubbed his forehead. "This is something to think about. My ritual sets conclude far too soon if my love life is to be set for life…do you really think that's possible? Magic isn't just emotions. It's comprised of four elements. None of them are named emotion," he knew what he was saying was more of presenting an argument against what Apolline had presented but it wasn't something even he fully believed.

"Is love not magic? Doesn't it require willpower and intent? Doesn't it make you imagine, wonder and drive you to be creative? Isn't it something that takes effort, _power_, to do? I can tell you, if you don't already know, in the throes of passion you come alive, you have clear intent and will things to happen, physically, often creatively so. Even if you find a way to keep the passion between yourself and a lover _dull_, you'll fantasize about it, daydream about it."

There was an evil glint in her eyes. Apolline wasn't teasing Harry here, if anything, there was a subtle accusation, a subtle knowledge, that Harry and Fleur had been amorous together, to some degree. She didn't say it but that was the feeling he got. It felt like she was a mother that somehow _knew_ what they had done.

"Which leads me to an alternative. One that would mean you have to be very careful of, Harry." Apolline's words drew Harry out of his thoughts one more.

"Veela have to be _incredibly_ careful. A part of who they are is linked to their sexuality, to their eventual mate. We are monogamous. When we decide upon a mate, when we intend to be with someone for life, when we will ourselves to be mated, when we creatively imagine ourselves with them, and our actions empower our intent, willpower and thoughts, a Veela mates, for life." There was a sharpness to her words that made Harry recoil slightly. Her blue eyes were ice and the look she was giving him was deadly serious.

"Veela encourages the rumors of being promiscuous. The enclave is even in favor of parading Veela around as mascots to help with this. The great fear of any Veela is to be mated to someone who will not return their affections and to help avoid this, we allow, sometimes even perpetrate, spreading those rumors."

Harry's thoughts were running wild. Did this mean that Fleur and he were going to happen? That she might have already given herself to him?

"Is that why they can feel others' emotions? To help them discern if their potential mate is actually in love with them?" If they had such a downside, having some way of compensating would make sense, as a way to balance things.

"We believe so, yes," she said, giving him a speculative look, as if to ask him 'is this what you really want to ask me right now?'

Harry hoped she would just come out and tell him, instead of making him ask, but he really wanted to know and decided not to draw it out. "What does that mean exactly? Is it like some kind of...Veela-bond?"

Apolline's musical laughter lit up the room. "Non, Harry. It's not a bond. In fact it isn't compulsory at all."

Harry frowned, "I don't understand." It wasn't that he thought it was some sort of magical bond but there was so little information given, on what it was to be mated, that he didn't quite understand.

"The process isn't a yes or no procedure. Like most things, it is a gradual process with muddy results. Perhaps an example will help. Think of it like baking a cake. You know the recipe and the end result. You go into it expecting to complete your task and, when it is completed, you end up with a cake. Now, if you were to stop the process, part way through, would you still have a cake? What if it was just starting to cook? Is that still a cake? Can you just put it back in the fridge and decide to adapt it to another recipe?"

"So it's not an exact process. Fleur had expected to end up with a cake in our relationship and began the process but, obviously, it wasn't finished?" Harry tried to make use of her analogy.

"You did not consummate the relationship, so no, a cake was not baked. But you are right, the process was started, even though Fleur and all Veela are taught to not even begin preparing the ingredients, no kissing, until they are certain that is the cake they will end up with," Apolline had a frown and was clearly unhappy with her daughter's actions.

Harry decided he was going to leave that alone for the moment. If she had wanted to say something about Fleur, that she would still pursue something with him, or that she was forbidden from doing so, she could have done so at any point here. Instead, she was giving him information, for himself to use, but also for the sake of her daughter, or so Harry believed. If she wanted to shut things down fully, she could have. If she wanted him to believe she was now besotted with him, magically, or almost compelled to be with him, then she could have led him to that conclusion. That she did neither was interesting, to say the least.

"So, this was partly to say that the rituals increasing my magical density would be having a Veela-esque response. That Grindelwald and Dumbledore, err, _mated_, for lack of a better term? Would Riddle have commited himself to life as being asexual, or someone married to their own aspiriations and power?" The thought of Grindelwald and Dumbledore being mated was just…not worth dwelling on, Harry decided.

"I don't know. Rituals are not well understood. And Seven sets of Seven...if they are done correctly, is simply astounding. Magic and rituals on that scale just aren't well understood. The only one alive that _might_, and let me stress, _might_, be able to do that, if they are even still alive, would be Nicholas Flamel, the one I suspect was the source of Albus and Gellert's ritual knowledge," Apolline sounded highly sceptical of the idea, however.

Privately, Harry thought Riddle was the only one with the possibility of knowing, and if not him, then Daphne might be well on her way to being the one, who, in their lifetime, might be able to match Salazar, simply because she was bright and had access to a treasure trove of knowledge which had, more than likely, the information required to put together the masterwork Salazar Slytherin did, assuming the set is balanced and things end well.

"So, in summary, you asked me here to express your concern that my life might be locked-in when I complete my ritual set or that I may need to be _very_ careful, romantically, so my magic doesn't pledge itself to someone that may never return my affection?"

Apolline gave him a kind smile. "An apt summary but, you may be overstating things. I could be entirely wrong, as you'd pointed out, this is conjecture based only on the lives of three men, two of which are deranged dark lords. Albus may just be Albus, a man married to academia and the responsibilities thrust on him. I don't _know_ anything; I'd simply be remiss to suspect and to never have voiced my worries."

Although Harry wasn't a Veela and thus lacked the ability to feel other's emotions, he thought this was the kind of concern he might receive from a family member. If things had worked out, or did work out, with Fleur, he wondered if things would grow between them until their relationship became more of a surrogate mother than a mother-in-law.

"Well, let me resolve our deal. Parseltongue is more than just a way to communicate with serpents. I am learning directly from Salazar Slytherin. When I read something in parseltongue I gain more than just knowledge, I gain his understanding and the instinctive understanding he had. Salazar explained it was like learning to fly a broom. When you are told what to do, you have to take the knowledge in your head and teach your body how to do it instinctively. Well, when I learn magic this way, I gain not only a perfect recall of the facts, because I _know_ them now, as well as Salazar did, but also I gain Slytherin's instinctive understanding of magic."

Harry watched as Apolline began to understand just what Harry was saying. What Salazar Slytherin had accomplished for his heirs was remarkable. The potential of such a gift was astronomical. If Harry was able to do the same thing, to pass along his magical abilities, each successive generation would be strong, his offspring would all be powerful, if they inherited the magical gift of being a parselmouth.

It was time for the kill shot. If there was a way to get the Delacour's to approve of him marrying more than just Fleur, this was it. Harry didn't care if they, or anyone, called him a selfish son of a bitch. He cared for Fleur, he loved her even, he wanted to bake his cake and eat it too! If he had to be manipulative to get it, then so be it.

He'd never been keen on more than one wife but deciding on Natalia and giving up Fleur fucking sucked. He wanted to be with Fleur, he wanted her.

And this was his best shot.

"There's just one more thing I'd like to ask, if you'll indulge me, the reason will be obvious right after, I promise," Apolline didn't give him a confirmation but gestured with her hand for him to ask. "What is a Veela's strongest magical trait?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly and it was clear she was thinking through the possible reasons for the question before answering, reluctantly, "Our affinity for fire."

Harry nodded and then went for his closer. "I don't have many rituals left but, of those that I have left to do, there seems to be an opening for a virginity ritual." Harry thought there was room for both in the set. Salazar didn't include things that were useless. Everything he had in the memoir was to be used. It was this understanding that led him to believe Salazar was hinting at him using both rituals on a woman. He hadn't broached that idea with Daphne, not that she would be the one to do the ritual with him, but whether she thought it was possible to do both at the same time. It didn't appear as if they would be an issue, preparation wise. Either way, he wasn't going to discuss the one he planned to do with Natalia with Apolline right now.

"Maybe Salazar understood what you are warning me of, or maybe not," he shrugged, "I don't know, at least not yet. But, the virginity ritual is for sharing prominent magical traits," he let that sink in for a moment before continuing. "I don't know where Fleur is at, but I wasn't stringing her along. If You-Know-Who was dead and gone, I'd marry your daughter and be done with it…but, he's not and I have to prepare for that."

"Are you trying to suggest we should agree to the match so our future heir may gain that for the Delacour family?" Her eyes were narrowed and she did _not_ look pleased with his insinuation.

"Nooo…" Harry stared out slowly, willing himself to be as sincere as possible as he didn't want to make this woman angry, especially when she'd arranged a meeting for the sole purpose of warning him. "I appreciate what you've done here for me, and I'm reciprocating. I'm letting you know about something that _nobody_ else is aware of," unless Daphne had read that for herself, she would not be aware of it. Harry hadn't told anyone. If Apolline wasn't bound by oath not to reveal his secrets he would never have told her either. But, as she was, he could be a little more cavalier.

"I haven't told Horace, Cyrus, Patrice, Fleur or Natalia. Only you are aware. Make use of it or don't. I'd prefer _nobody_ else learns of it but, as you are aware, I didn't ask for one, nor did I specify you couldn't tell anyone before I let you know," Harry gave her a strained smile. If she did tell everyone in his inner circle it wouldn't really be _that _bad.

Apolline regarded him for a moment then reached forward and touched his knee. "I'll be discrete, worry not. If there is anything to worry about, it is your propositioning for taking a young woman's virginity to their mother."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The first thing Harry had noticed, when he had first come into the meeting, was the lack of females. He had mistakenly concluded that Fleur and Daphne would be included. The fact they weren't was dwelling in his thoughts. Daphne didn't come to another country just to sit around. She wasn't like that, this wasn't just social.

When Daphne did something, there was always a purpose behind it, a rationale. It was one of the things Harry had come to notice and appreciate about her. Her days were structured and she was task oriented, completing her objectives each day. If she was here, she was planning to achieve something.

His thoughts kept wandering between his conversation with Apolline and Daphne's presence, or lack of thereof. Was it connected? Did Apolline have further purposes beyond a single talk with Harry?

Sadly, he couldn't spend any more time on the topic. It was time to face his advisors, and he knew it wasn't going to be pleasant, easy-going, conversation.

"Would you like to tell of us your rationale behind jumping forward in our plans, to get us started, or would you prefer we begin to discuss the fall out?" Horace began the actual meeting after drinks had been served, Harry opting for nothing as he had just had tea with Apolline and could get something later if he wished to.

"I'll begin," Harry stated, knowing it was the prudent thing to do and wanting to just get it over with.

The room they were in was quite large for a study, yet it was cozy and Harry assumed a private place, designed to be used for business meetings in a comfortable setting, as to keep it less formal than an office or a study. Only four armchairs were set up in the room and they had a single circular table in between them. The four chairs made a square around it and made it easy to talk and discuss everything.

Harry, still keeping in the habit, had cast all his privacy spells, with the permission of Patrice, it was probably overkill but he refused to break the habit. He had been working so hard to control any possibility of intelligence leaks and wouldn't relax on his requirements.

"I'll start by saying I didn't believe any of you were taking it seriously. That I had the capability to pull it off, first of all, and that it was necessary to get it done quickly, and not to keep drawing it out with delays on the financial and legal side," Harry led with his strongest justification for just going in for the kill with only Daphne being informed ahead of time.

The three men looked at each other and held a silent debate as to who would respond. Cyrus was the one that did and he began his remarks from the chair to Harry's right.

"I'm certain you can appreciate our disbelief that you would be able to waltz into one of the most warded wizarding homes, avoid detection and make a miraculous escape with none being the wiser to your part. That you actually pulled it off, with the man dying in the most secure room in the home, no less, is entirely mystifying to me and I cannot fathom how it was done, not even now."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement but kept his face passive and looked to the two other men, to see who would comment next. However, it was Cyrus that continued to talk.

"We were able to launch our legal actions, and financial claims, before Lucius received his just desserts," the man was full on smirking at his little play on words. "Also, I have received a petition to meet with Narcissa Malfoy. I believe we may avoid all the legal hoopla, settling it with a private agreement, if the tone of her letter is true and she is confirmed as the Regent for House Malfoy."

Harry felt himself tighten up at the mention of Narcissa but was sure there would be no outward display for any of them to have seen. "I, uh, might have overheard a, err..._conversation_, between them."

"And this…_conversation, _is relevant to our discussion?" Horace asked leadingly, with obvious interest.

"Yes. She stated, during it, that she would seek to become Narcissa Black again. In short, she basically told him he'd overeached his position, against her counsel, and was about to get screwed without the former minister's protection." There really was no need to bring up how she was dressed or how she had messed with her husband when he was already reeling.

"And you think this was a genuine statement?" Patrice questioned neutrally.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know the woman. She was speaking within the privacy of their home to her husband. There didn't seem to be any love between them. But, as I said, I don't know her. Maybe Cyrus or Horace would have a better idea, I just thought it might be worth mentioning, especially if Cyrus might be meeting with her."

"I'll consider it, when I meet with her. She could expedite a resolution and make things far easier on ourselves, especially if she wanted to return to the Black name," he glanced at Horace, "I'll sound a few people out, maybe you could as well?"

"Of course, of course," Horace agreed jovially. "We have a number of mutual friends, I'm sure I can put out some feelers and learn how she's taking things."

"That leaves me with discussing the fallout. From my contacts, this has spooked purebloods. While the consensus opinion is that one of Malfoy's associates, who was heavily relying on his connection to Minister Fudge paid him a late night visit, it is still not sitting well. The blatant murder of a Head of House. A wealthy, and, until recently, a well connected one, does not sit well. I've heard more than one decry how ghastly it is to attack a Head of House, the lack of respect should not be tolerated and the Kiss should be administered to deter anyone else from murdering another."

Harry shuddered, that was a fate he would _never_ accept, he was sure he'd gone a little pale just hearing about that. He bloody well _hated_ dementors, even if his patronus was exceptional at warding them off.

"Well, it's a good thing that there are no leads. The only clues they have are the muggle fudge and the connecting of his private floo to the Leaky Cauldron, at, or near, the time of his death." Patrice chimed in. "The murder is major news here in law enforcement. I asked around."

Harry had forgotten that Patrice had been law enforcement. He forgot the name of the department, but he had been one of their best, for a short period of time, before retiring. It made him wonder what the man really thought. Was he okay with it because Lucius was a man who should have already been in prison for life, or was there a part of him that was uncomfortable with Harry's actions?

"I heard much the same. The Aurors investigating have no solid leads and aren't too put out by it. The entire department hated him for gutting their budget and using his connections to interfere with their jobs," Horace put in, adding to the conversation.

Harry had his eyes bouncing between Patrice and Horace as the conversation lulled. He knew it was one of them that would speak to his initial words next.

"I was highly displeased to learn you had gone off. Operations rarely go as planned and going in, without backup, no one ready to assist you should you have required it…it was foolish and put yourself at needless risk," Patrice cast a stern gaze at Harry as he paused. "However, the operation succeeded, you completed all your objectives and are alive and well to learn from it. I'll commend you on your improbable success while still chastising you for your impatience and lack of prudence."

Harry was kind of surprised he got off so lightly, from Patrice and Cyrus, he hadn't planned to be apologetic for it at all though, so he was glad with the words of the first two.

"Harry, my boy, I never doubted your ability to complete the job. You've not yet overestimated your abilities and have shown yourself to be truly remarkable, when it comes to feats of magic." He gave a wan smile to the youngest male in the room. "Where we are disappointed, is not in your actions but the lack of foresight. _You_ are our hope. Without you, we are just men past their magical primes plotting and scheming with politics and money. Even together, we cannot stand against Tom without you."

That made Harry feel a bit of a gut punch. But it was also the reason he had wanted to just go ahead and get this started. He had to act and they couldn't baby him. He would be on the front lines and getting experience was important. It was why he was throwing himself into his training with McGonagall and Flitwick.

"I understand," he said, truly believing that, "and I will try to adhere to all of your advice on these matters more, in the future."

"Good." Horace said, his voice radiating warmth, "We want to see you alive and well at the end of this."

Harry looked at all of them, they all appeared to be fully behind the statement, with Patrice toasting him, by raising his glass at Harry, and Cyrus giving him a solemn nod.

"But, I also think you all lack the sense of urgency that is needed," Harry spoke out strongly, just after they had sort of reconciled and were beginning to move past the single time of him not listening, what they surely thought of rebellious adolescence and Harry as sparking things off before it was too late.

"Riddle went after the stone almost three _years_ ago. He will not have been idle. Then, this year, he had an agent _successfully_ infiltrate Hogwarts, as a revered retired Auror, no less, and that wouldn't have been the only part of the plan. Something else is coming," Harry looked at them all, his jaw set and eyes hard and unrelenting. He sat forward in his chair, "I know it. I can feel it."

He could see the frowns on their faces, the displeasure of Harry's words taking root. But Harry knew this would come. However, this was his faction, his team. They were here to advise him, to help and assist _him._ Harry knew how valuable each of them was but he wanted to make it clear, he was leading them, not them telling him what to do and him meekly following orders.

"You've said it. I'm to be the magical powerhouse. I'm going to be the one that has to ward off the likes of Dumbledore and Riddle. If all my training is just that, training, how can I ever stand tall against the likes of them, or even the tier below them?" His eyes were aglow with his determination as he stared them down, his fingers depressing into the arms of the chair.

"Look, before any of you respond, let me make something else clear," he softened his gaze and took a deep breath, relaxing his body and letting the jolt of adrenaline he had experienced ebb. "I trust you all, implicitly," while that wasn't _entirely_ true, it was mostly the case. "Cyrus has my full confidence as the Steward of Houses Black and Potter. While you are slowly teaching me in the ways of finance, you have full reign over them."

He turned to Horace next, "You are my House Potter proxy and represent me most directly. Your advice and guidance has steered me well, you know I've listened and you can trust I will continue to do so, I'm ever relient on yours and Cyrus' connections to the movers and shakers in the business and political spheres of the wizarding world."

"Last, but not least, Patrice. I know you are just getting started here but I've already come to view the Delacour family as my own surrogate family. Gabrielle is like a cherished little sister and Apolline has been so warm and loving as well. I think you'll be my moral compass and continue to help me develop into a good man," the words he spoke were not just blowing smoke. That was how he truly felt about his advisors. They were all valuable and each had their own strengths.

"While I believe your words are heartfelt, I must note you still plan to add Ivan Pavlov to this group." It wasn't so much of a reproach as it was a challenge, a challenge that this was the correct decision as well as to push Harry, if he was going to be leading things, or being advised.

Harry knew this was always going to be a sticking point. Patrice was firmly against the man's inclusion, Cyrus was not in favor but would not stand against it, not at this time anyway, and Horace saw potential benefit and advised Harry to be extremely cautious about it, there would be negative reactions to their association.

"Well, now that Lucius has been dealt with, what is our plan going forward? You're handling the dismantling of the Malfoy finances, Cyrus, and you and Patrice are jointly working on building up my two families financial holdings and economic interests. Horace and Cyrus are working the Wizengamot and while both endeavors will yield results, neither destroys the power base and it does not remove the capable wands and support that will flock to Riddle _when_ he returns."

While it wasn't certain it was a 'when' Riddle returned, Harry did not want to plan with an 'if' Riddle returned being there instead. Plan for the worst case scenario, that Voldemort had another way of restoring himself to a body and would be doing so, somehow, this year. If it came to that, then Harry was already aware he couldn't stand against the man without major advantages, unless his restoration was a weakened one.

"We don't know that it is a _when_," Patrice remarked, he was an advocate of keeping what is a fact and what is conjecture separate. "It is still mere speculation at this point. What we _do _know is that the _former_ Death Eaters are still marked. They still have the jinx running, for anyone daring enough to say his pseudonym, and that they are keeping a low profile. Macnair indicated there are occasional, and spur of the moment, muggle attacks but busting them, when they don't even know when or where they are going to do it, is not likely to be successful."

Cyrus snorted and rolled his eyes, "A handful of disgruntled purebloods reminiscing about the glory days, getting drunk and the indulging old habits isn't our concern. Tip off the DMLE and let them handle it. They're trash, low brow, and little more than drunks with a wand."

"They are a part of his followers, should we not be dealing with it?" Patrice didn't let up after Cyrus' comments, "He uses thugs like them to sow fear into the populace."

"Then, what do you suggest?" Cyrus retorted, his voice gaining some heat now, "You _know_ the DMLE won't put a tail on them, for months on end, hoping they'll slip up and be caught in the act. They won't go for that with just a tip, and, more than likely, they'll get tipped off by their fellow purebloods and it will never amount to anything." It was a cynical statement and one that nobody was going to disagree with the veracity of it.

This was the problem. They talked and talked and talked without any sort of agreement or a coherent strategy. He could almost hear the next few points reverberating in his head already.

"It's better than your suggestion of just taking them out quietly," Patrice riposted Cyrus' comment.

"Nobody is making Harry into an assassin. He's fourteen and not going to rack up a double digit body count before he turns fifteen," Horace interjected, he had never been in favor of just indiscriminately killing anyone that would lend their wand in aid of Voldemort, when he returned.

"Is there a difference between taking out the rabble and your suggestion? I doubt killing off a few more pureblood family heads will be _sooo_ much better," Cyrus mocked Horace's previous suggestion of minimizing the killing by taking out priority targets only. The basic thought was that taking out the Head of House for all the powerful Death Eater supporters would scare everyone off.

"Non!" Patrice shot it down vehemently, "We've been over this. Racking up a body count will draw attention to our cause and will turn the public against us and cause Law Enforcement to investigate those who have the ability and motive to do such things. Harry's name would find itself on a list, just from his background. Murdered parents gives him motivation and his magical skills gives him the capability. With just motive and capability, it would be a short list."

"Besides, after the second or third hit, everyone with half a brain would know what is going on and would find ways to combat the strategy, perhaps even trying to retaliate against innocents to discourage further hits."

Harry sighed and slumped back in his chair, "We've been over this," he said tiredly, "and going over it ad nauseum isn't helping matters." This was why he was pushing for the inclusion of Ivan. The ideas all had some merit but none, alone, nor even combined, were enough to be a viable plan that could bring about their triumph.

"This is why I am approaching the Pavlovs. Hopefully, they will have an idea. I can't just run around killing people and we can't get away with paying others to do it," he sat up straight, his frustration evident. "We need a strategy that simultaneously neutralizes our enemies' bases of power and keeps the ministry off our backs and, so far, none of our ideas accomplish both goals."

Harry was aware that they all knew none of them had expertise for this sort of thing. He knew they understood why they needed assistance. If there was anyone as suited, or had even a modicum of talent for it, they would be the preference. But the only candidates they had were unsuitable.

"Let's leave it for now. Lucius is dead, nobody has a clue I was involved and our legal plans are going off without a hitch, thanks to Daphne's warning. I won't just jump into something like that without one final discussion first," that was a compromise he felt wouldn't hurt him and would appease his advisors, "and I'll see about talking with Natalia or Ivan."

"You'll go meet with the man yourself, alone?" Patrice questioned with a mixture of concern and disapproval, the inference of Harry putting himself in a vulnerable position heavily implied.

Harry rolled his eyes, he wasn't going to a dark alley to go meet the man. "Natalia is off training for a ballet role. I'll see about meeting him while his daughter practices. Then, I can talk with him, where there are others able to see us, but still maintain privacy."

"You believe he'll take Lucius' _sweet_ _dreams_ as your work?" Cyrus smirked, enjoying poking fun at the man's manner of death at every conceivable opportunity to do so. "I'm just worried he might _sugar-coat_ it and want some proof before he gives you an oath, thus entrapping you."

It was hard to take the man's point seriously when he was putting in all the jokes about Lucius fudge-filled demise.

"I'm not going to just straight out admit it. Plus, I've been to their home before and had dinner with their family. Worst case, I'll have Cuddles with me," Harry loved that trump card, it was just so fabulous to have. In the event of a worst case scenario happening, simply sic dragon on problem. "Really, I'll just sound him out a bit and go from there. Until there is a marriage agreement in place, I won't be bringing him into the know for everything, I'll just be sounding him out, I promise."

It shouldn't be that bad. He had been wanting to meet up with Natalia but she had been training like crazy for the auditions. He hadn't really caught up on what she had been doing exactly but some time together would be nice. When he was just with her, it felt like he could just be Harry, not Harry Potter the celebrity, and not Harry Potter the war planner.

He had so many things on his plate and getting his mind off of things would do him a world of good. He hadn't even had a chance to analyze what Apolline said. If his love-life was going to be set within weeks, not years, like he assumed, then he'd need to solidify things.

That was the thing though, did he believe it? He really didn't have an answer there.

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts and focused back on the meeting. It was going to go on for some time now…what a joy. If that wasn't enough to look forward to, there was always the chance of an awkward encounter with Fleur.

The best thing he could really think of would be to go and find Cuddles and Gabrielle, enjoy the evening, after all this, playing with them. Such innocent fun would be a balm to his soul right about now.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Another chapter in the books. Thanks to Nauze & Triage for all the wonderful beta work!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, bookmarks, kudos & commenting! Feel free to join our discord if anyone would like, the link to join is on my profile.
> 
> Stay safe & healthy!


	40. Tender Talks & Delicate Discussions

Harry sat alone, watching quietly, further back in the empty theater. His eyes were occasionally drawn away from Natalia but, for the most part, they were glued to her. Watching her work on her routine, over and over and over again. It was mesmerizing and he found it oddly relaxing.

Lacroix had helped him get in here. Harry was in a private studio in France. She knew he had been wanting to visit with Natalia and helped to arrange a portkey for him. This was a private production company that put on small scale productions for the wizarding elite. They often cooperated with Lacroix's studio. Madame Lacroix herself had commented on how it was a partnership, they needed an extra body for a production and Lacroix had sent Natalia, commenting to Harry, that this opportunity would be an invaluable experience for her career, being only fifteen and already having the opportunity to dance with a professional ballet company was unheard of.

It had been an interesting conversation, as so many of them with her tended to be. Now he was content to just watch the practice, at this point in the morning they were doing what looked to be more of a workout and technique training than anything else. Lots of repetitive motions and Harry saw one of the older women assisting her, taking a few moments to show her something about a movement and discussing it with her.

Natalia had been razor focused, she had acknowledged his presence when he came in, with a short wave and slight smile, but hadn't looked to him even once. This hadn't bothered Harry, not in the least. This was something he could see himself getting used to, not that he would spend day after day watching ballet rehearsals but having something to watch while he spent time reflecting was appealing. There was an effortless grace and beauty at work, their fluid movements and dedication was equal parts relaxing and impressive to watch.

He watched as Natalia was doing some more complicated footwork, her ankles turning quickly and feet pivoting from flat to only her toes touching the ground. He let his eyes stay affixed to her as he thought back to the end of the day at the Delacour home.

His team of advisors were coming together quite well, each man had something to offer. Horace's main focus was the political world and using his numerous connections to assist where he could. Cyrus had an in with the more business orientated contacts in the wizengamot as well, and he and Patrice had put together some plans for the war, on the business front.

From what he understood, they were working towards gaining something of a monopoly on potion ingredients. The Malfoy family owned some of them and they were going to be targeted. Part of the reason they had wanted to delay the Malfoy assassination, not that they had told him ahead of time, was that the Nott and Parkinson families had some minor holdings that they were aquiring for the Black and Greengrass families, before they tried to pry the rest from the Malfoys. It wouldn't give them a true monopoly, not even by combining all of their factions businesses, but it would remove the Voldemort supporters hold over any of them and, potentially, set them up to deny easy access to potion ingredients, at wholesale cost, or even off the books, from the opposing side.

They had discussed that brewing medicinal potions was paramount to their ability to keep their terrorist actions away from the ministry. The Death Eaters couldn't go to Saint Mungo's and get patched up and they'd have to rely on healers who wouldn't betray their confidence and supplies that they could get without being able to be traced by the aurors. It was fortuitous that Dumbledore's side had Hogwarts, a school that could purchase large quantities of potions or supplies without any questions being asked.

The men had explained that if Patrice was able to do similar feats in France then they'd gain greater control and would be able to partner together and increase the efficiency and effectiveness of their businesses. With a larger control of the market they would have profitable businesses that generated capital whether another war happened or not. If the Pavlov family got in on it, they could hold a strong share of the market through a much larger area, denying even the opportunity to try and smuggle in potion ingredients from outside the country.

All Harry knew for sure, was the purchases were not straightforward. There were laws in place to prevent monopolies from forming, both the Ministry and ICW had them, and they were a highly regulated industry. The legwork going into the plan was immense and being entirely handled outside of him. As the Regent Black and Head of House Potter he would have final approval but that was a rubber stamp procedure at this point, if they were able to make this all work.

Those talks were tedious and the details blurred as they debated and discussed them again. His mind drifted and his thoughts brought him back to the dinner. Cyus had begged off, having already had plans for his evening, while Horace had stayed for the evening. He still couldn't believe when Gabrielle demanded to be allowed to sit on Cuddles, instead of a chair, at dinner. Well, that wasn't wholly unbelievable, it was Apolline agreeing that her youngest could sit on his dragon, provided he made her of suitable size and ensured Cuddles would behave properly.

That had guaranteed that Harry had sat beside the adorable girl, who loved his dragon more than humanly possible, and he had a lovely dinner sitting across from Patrice and Horace, who had been sat opposite he and Gabrielle, while Apolline had sat at the end of the table, positioned to possibly control and entertain her daughter, not that she had needed it, having passed out, due to exhaustion, shortly into dinner.

It had been a nice meal, with easy conversation taking place and the only part that had been anxious was wondering where Fleur and Daphne had gone. Apolline had told him Daphne had returned to Hogwarts, before dinner, and Fleur had taken the time to go and visit her grandmother and friends who had not made it to Hogwarts.

It was something that still plagued his thoughts. What had been Daphne's purpose for the visit? Was Cyrus aware?

Harry's attention was drawn back to the stage. The workout and training session had ended, and he saw that Natalia had dropped off the stage and was making her way towards him.

"Harry!" She exclaimed and actually jumped into his arms. She wrapped herself around him, as Harry's arms came up to grab hold of her, her chest pressed up against his and her weight being supported by Harry. He was holding her up and she was looking down at him, her eyes full of warmth.

"It's been too long! I've missed you!" She squeezed him just after saying it and pressed her lips into his cheek.

"Natalia," Harry murmured, "I've missed you too," he squeezed her back with affection. They held onto each other, Harry holding up her weight, for a few more seconds before Harry planted her feet back on the ground, gracefully.

"Did you have fun and learn something this morning?" Harry wasn't really sure what to ask. Lacroix had said they were in a warm up but she had also called it class so he didn't really know.

"Yes," she gushed, "everyday I learn _sooo_ much!" Her eyes were sparkling with delight and her grin was so infectious a smile spread across his face. "It's just so _amazing_, it's everything I've ever wanted! My dreams are really coming true!" she launched herself into him and kissed him soundly!

"It's all thanks to you, Harry!" she told him breathlessly and wrapped herself around him and there was no indication that she was letting go anytime soon. "Thanks, Harry. Really, thanks," she whispered in his ear.

After another minute she let go and they broke apart for the second time but this time she sat on the back of the seat right beside where Harry had been sitting. Natalia gestured for him to sit down again and he did just that, not minding sitting opposite to her so he could see her.

"So what did you just finish up then? You're not done for the day, are you?" he quickly questioned, the last part in doubt, it was too early in the day for them to call it quits.

"No," she laughed, "that was just morning class. We go through technique but it's really more of a light warm up to prepare for rehearsal. We have about a half hour off now and then aside from short breaks we'll be dancing till sometime in the evening, usually five, six, or seven."

"Five days a week?"

She shook her head, "No, six," she said excitedly. "I'm hoping to get some extra tutoring on the seventh too," she was so ecstatic, bouncing with energy.

"Oh, is there going to be any free time for you?" He questioned, leaving it unsaid, free time to spend with him.

"Yeah. For muggle ballerina's there is more time for keeping their body healthy but for us it's a few potions, if necessary, and I'm free. I mean, at this early stage in my career, I need to put in all the extra hours to strengthen my body and improve my technique as much as I can handle," Harry nodded, that made sense but left him feeling hollow, hearing her words.

Did he just trade away Fleur for a girl that couldn't even be bothered to make time for him? He knew this was a political decision but it was still a punch to his gut.

"Don't worry Harry. I won't be free _every_ night, after dance, but seven isn't too late," she used her pelvis to push herself off from resting against the back of the seat, closing the distance between them. "Besides, maybe you'd want me to sleep over sometimes," she said sultrily at him.

Harry smiled as she pushed closer and sat sideways on him. Natalia planted a series of soft kisses on his lips and then leaned back, her face schooling into a more serious look. "Father was really impressed. Hell, my whole family was. My whole family threw out ideas but none could fathom how it was pulled off. If they had any doubts about you, they're gone now."

Harry didn't indicate anything positive to that, no nod, no words of agreement. He thought back to if he had established his standard privacy spells, this was _not_ something that he could allow to be overheard. He breathed a sigh of relief when he recalled he had already set up the spells. He focused on the feeling of the magic around and was doubly assured his privacy spells were in place.

"The day it broke in the papers, they knew. Who else but Harry Potter could pull off a miracle like that. I know my family pulled strings, they tried to find out if _anyone_ had a legitimate lead. When they found out there were none...well, Father set this in motion that very day." Natalia gestured at the theater that they were in."

"Did it take much doing?" Harry asked, honestly curious.

Natalia shrugged. "I don't know the details…but, I'd wager some ongoing financial assistance and the prospect of having you attend performances," she beamed the last part at him, a massive smile lighting up her face.

"Oh, you think I'll come?" Harry asked teasingly.

"I do," she said, staring into his eyes, her words said entirely sincerely.

Harry didn't answer with words, he tilted his chin and leaned forward, capturing her lips and using his free hand to reach around and pull her upper body right into it.

"I wouldn't miss it," he said, right after breaking the kiss.

She used her left hand to grab his right, the one that had slid around her upper body and clasped their hands together, her chin dropping and eyes staring at their joined hands.

"I have a lot to be thankful to you for. Without you, my family wouldn't have made this happen. You might not know, but working with professionals at my age...it's a _big_ deal. I should be _at least_ seventeen and graduated before this happened."

Her words were soft and her eyes downcast as she shyly continued to explain this to him. "I shouldn't be here. I know that. I'm not quite ready for this, for the quality of the others. I'm good, very good for my age even, but, I'm not quite _here_ yet."

Harry turned his attention to the hand holding his, her fingers were holding his while her thumb worked up and down the back of his hand, more in an agitated, nervous manner than anything else.

"This is going to help my career, more than you can imagine, more than I could, really," she mumbled out the last part to herself. "That is, as long as I put the work in. And, I promise you that, Harry, I won't screw this up. I'll learn my part, however minor they may be, and dance with perfection." There was a fire and determination to her declaration, Harry believed her and from what he had seen this morning, he had nothing to doubt it.

"I'm sure you'll be great," he told her in a gentle voice, taking his left hand and raising it to her cheek, grabbing hold of her face and delicately running his thumb across her cheek, back and forth.

"Thanks, Harry," she brought her chin up and gazed into his green eyes while her hand caressed his cheek in return for his ongoing affection. "This is all possible because of you," she kissed his cheek again, letting her lips linger.

She released his cheek and leaned into him, cuddling into him and they both enjoyed each other's warmth.

These were the moments that Harry liked, Natalia, when politics were not rearing their ugly head, just made things feel so simple and natural. They liked each other. They showed their affection for one another and it was just for them. Yes, they had shown off, attending two balls together but that's not what he saw Natalia as. She wasn't just a pretty dancer who happened to be gorgeous. She was passionate, diligent, hard working and had the character to persevere in difficult circumstances.

When her family derode her for pursuing ballet, she ducked her head and bore the criticism. When she developed a reputation of being the black sheep, for defying her family to pursue her love of dance, she didn't let it deter her.

In many ways he envied her strength and resolve. It was something he was trying to emulate himself. Early on at Hogwarts, he had bowed to the pressure. He'd become who everyone thought he should be. He listened and became the consummate Gryffindor. Harry didn't regret his actions, he didn't think he had become someone distorted. Rather, he wondered what his life would have been like if he had a goal in mind like Natalia when he entered Hogwarts.

Would he have had a passion for something like Natalia had for ballet if he grew up with a family? Would he be into quidditch as much as Krum was, if his dad had played it with him from the time he could walk?

Harry would like to think he would, but so few, this young, did. It was something that so very few found, or, perhaps, so few were willing to relentlessly pursue to the detriment of things like their social life and academic excellence.

"Harry, I have to get back now. It's a short break and I need to get a snack and keep my body limber. Plus, Father just arrived." Natalia gestured toward the door that had opened behind and to the right of Harry.

"Before I leave you to it, can we hang out tonight? Can I...maybe...stay over, I liked last time." Natalia ducked her chin when she wasked the last part and broke eye contact but she hadn't gotten up off him yet.

"Sure, I'd love that," her eyes lit up and a smile sprouted on her face. "Just message me," Harry added.

"I will." She replied and then she quickly pecked him on the lips. Right after she stood up but didn't turn as she wanted to say one more thing first, "Don't be nervous. He's incredibly impressed and knows you have a very astute team backing you. Always be careful, but I have complete confidence in you."

She turned and bounced away stopping just at the end of his privacy ward. "I'll see you tonight Harry." she waited for him to reply the same and with a short wave she was headed back, practically skipping down the aisle to get back to the stage.

Harry disbanded his privacy charms, allowing for Ivan to see him and make his way over. The man settled a seat away from him with only a handshake as a form of greeting being exchanged.

Harry recast the full suite of privacy spells and waited for Ivan to kick things off. As he waited he watched as the stage transformed, walls of mirrors, came up, with bars for supports, lighting intensified overhead and instruments rose, seemingly out of mid air, and took a ready position, even though there was no-one to play them.

A piano began to play, though Harry could not see one, the sound coming from all around him and everywhere at once. All the girls on stage got in place, Natalia on the back left, when the instructor began calling out.

"Back, further back," Natalia and the three others in the third line of dancers stepped back a couple half paces and the instructor called out, "good, hold there."

The few slow notes began to progress, picking up rhythm and beginning to build, yet the pace was slow and quiet, a beautiful artistic type start, though Harry really had no idea how to describe this style of music. He had no experience with muggle classical music. It sounded like a song he might have heard in some fancy store, ones that Petunia would have never allowed him into in the first place.

"Check arms, feet, lines," the commanding voice of the woman leading things shouted out.

Harry watched as Natalia made an 'o' shape with her arms, held out down toward her hips, almost like she was holding a large ball and then, as she lifted her arms up high over her head, she rose on her feet, stretching her neck to match the lead hand. The forward arm stretched out and her upper body contoured to follow it, her back leg lifting as she maintained her balance and rose to her toes.

"Left arm, keep those arms up," the stern lady called out once more.

"That's Madame Beaufort," Ivan said, his deep voice breaking the silence between them. He was aware of whom Harry was looking at without actually turning to see him. "She had a long distinguished career with Salle Le Peletier, the Paris Opera Ballet, and hopes to make this into a prestigious wizarding production company," he jabbed his chin toward the woman and continued to look towards the practice, keeping his focus on the dancers.

"I have agreed to finance their first production, an original work, a rendition of The Fountain of Fair Fortune," he didn't know how, but the man sounded annoyed, excited and displeased all at the same time.

"Is that odd? I thought Madame Lacroix did some small productions too," Harry remembered hearing a bit about it but hadn't really paid attention to these things.

Ivan let out a derisive grunt. "Muggle productions put on by wizards and witches. That hasn't gained traction over the centuries and it will never catch on."

"Then why allow Natalia to join ballet? Why give financial support to this production?" Harry asked, trying to gain insight into what the man thought about this.

Ivan let out a heavy breath and looked over, his upper lip pushed up and his lower lip protruding slightly. "Beaufort isn't putting on a _muggle_ production," he sneered the word as if it was an insult. "She's spent her time figuring out how to make ballet _magical_."

Harry bobbed his head slowly. He could understand that the purebloods wouldn't be into a form of art that was essentially muggle. Finding a way to make it more magical would make some sense, though, if he was reading it right, Ivan Pavlov didn't necessarily believe in it as well.

"As for my daughter…many pureblood families find hobbies that are productive to their child's development. Many families send their daughters to Madame Lacroix. Beyond the obvious benefit of learning to dance, they are taught discipline, have opportunities to build connections, and learn the value of hard work and perseverance, amongst other things," he paused and let out a mixture of a sigh and a growl. "Natalia...she didn't take to it as a hobby. It became her sole passion...much to her mother's and my consternation."

"Why is that? Why would you prefer she wasn't so into ballet?" He hoped he wasn't prodding the man for too much information. The entire conversation had been far more relaxed than Harry had expected. There wasn't even a whiff of business discussion yet.

"Dance is a _hobby_. Look at Beaufort. She's at the pinnacle of her profession, or so I'm told. If everything went well for my daughter, she could only hope to achieve that. To live in the muggle world for decades and become renowned there for her dancing. But then, when she ages out, what will she have? Not fame or fortune, at least not in the wizarding world. Her skill will not provide her a respected career and she'll have many more decades to be around with nothing to fall back on than a meager savings and her family."

It was a rather clinical reply, cold, full of facts and the bare bones truth. Harry thought about that, if Beaufort was the best she could do, the woman was relying on the financial generosity of others to be able to try to achieve something. It was more likely that the Pavlov family decided to contribute, financially, for Natalia hooking Harry than anything else. It left Harry with a bit of a sour taste in his mouth.

Should Natalia's pursuit be weighed solely on the financial and career opportunities that could arise from the pursuit of her passion?

Harry got lost in thought, his eyes tracking Natalia as she twirled on her toes, as she brought her second leg down and shifted her weight to it, beginning a movement that was fast and slow at the same time. It felt like his eyes were being deceived. The grace and elegance that she moved with made it seem as though she was gently floating around, drifting wherever the winds were taking her, the others too, of course, but her body was getting around the stage quite a lot faster than it appeared she was moving.

"But that will soon be your problem," he said, leading the change in direction of their conversation. "When Natalia told me you would show your resolve...I, we, would never have expected Malfoy of all people. And so creatively done too," he chuckled darkly as he relaxed back into his chair.

Harry's lips quirked towards a smile but he was still having some difficulties with his actions. In the heat of the moment he had felt justified, good even. But after, well, his nights were more restless than he'd like, his thoughts wondering if he had crossed a line or was heading down a dark parth he wouldn't be able to escape from.

"The loss of opportunity to forcibly gain knowledge from the man is..._unfortunate_, but, it's part and parcel for the lack of leads. Though, the man's absence would have brought too much attention," he mused out loud.

Harry did not want to be slipping up or saying anything that could ever be used against him. He'd kept his mouth shut, he'd been in perfect control of his bodily reactions but this was too precarious a position to be in. The man beside him was one he had been warned about, on multiple occasions, and he wasn't to be underestimated.

"I hope you don't mind that I have Horace, Patrice and Cyrus jointly working on the marriage contract, my legal representation will be looking it over as well." Harry didn't expect the man to react but he couldn't imagine that he was pleased to have a political opponent negotiating terms for a marriage that you wanted to make happen.

"Some business arrangements are pleasant, others, however, are not. But business is business and you don't turn away from good opportunities because of a personal reason, that is, if it can be avoided." The man said passively, still watching the stage, where they had continued to do complicated motions.

Harry watched as they completed some spinning motions, he snuck a glance over at Ivan who was still lounging in the chair two over from him.

"How do you attack an enemy that is stronger than you, more numerous, has more resources, and, honestly out classes your side in almost every way?" Harry just bluntly asked the question. He knew Ivan would be smart enough to understand the situation but, hopefully, he was not aware Voldemort was imminently returning.

Ivan's head dropped toward his left shoulder and he rolled his neck up and over to bring his head around to bear on Harry. His face was like stone, passive, hard and unmoving. His forehead creased, the only visible sign, other than the movement of his head, that he acknowledged Harry's words.

He dropped his chin and allowed it to lead him to looking back down toward the rehearsal. He drew in a breath and a low growl accompanied the exhaled air.

Harry turned back to look at the stage as well, leaning, once again, on the chair in front of him, though his fingers strongly gripped his chair's armrests.

"You don't." Ivan's deep voice rumbled out after a minute or so of quiet between them.

Harry relaxed the grip on his chair and turned his head, looking at the elder man, who either ignored or did not notice his action. He sat, staring forward, lips pursed and arms resting on the places designated for them to do so.

"You cannot take overt action against them, you are weaker and will lose on attrition alone. If it provoked them into overt action of their own…" Harry didn't need Ivan to explain that and the man agreed with him, letting his words fall off.

If Harry kept assassinating Death Eaters, the ones left would figure it out pretty quickly, regardless of evidence, and begin striking back.

"To have any chance, you'd need to create division within their camp. Have them so focused internally, potentially even fighting each other, to notice that it is your external influence that is guiding their actions, leading them to their eventual end."

That sounded lovely. Get the Death Eaters to turn on each other. That sounded so simple, but, pulling it off...that wasn't going to be easy, if it was even possible in the first place. What would they even cause them strife? Money? Power? Politics?

Harry's mind turned the ideas over and over in his head, solutions not forthcoming.

The ballet dancers were all crouched on a single leg, their free leg out and pointed, before it flowed back toward their body as they stood, their closer arm gliding along, rounded and almost touching their outer legs' pointed toes before it was brought in as well, though the two hands clasped together up over their heads.

But how could he solve that issue? Harry wouldn't just admit he was doomed to die and fail. There _must_ be a way for his side to prevail. He just had to think of it, his faction needed a strategy that could actually conclude with a happy ending. He frowned as he kept watching the ballerinas practice.

They were on their toes now, right on the points, or that's how it looked to Harry, and they were, for lack of a better word, shimmying. Standing still but almost vibrating in place, their body at full height, neck extended, arms held in a tight ellipse at their maximum reach.

What he needed was a way to divide them, something that was distinguishable. His eyes were following the dancing on the stage but his mind was whirling. He could feel his subconscious had stumbled upon something. There was gold right around him somewhere, he just needed to let his mind work. He could feel it coming. But as it was, Harry's attention was drawn to the dancers more deliberately, not in the half-focused way he had been observing them.

Merlin, that looked like hell. Bouncing on your toes and Beaufort is calling out the timing to the song as the music builds, deeper notes being struck on the piano in long half-notes while the higher octaves were driving with eighth and sixteenth notes. Harry could feel the tension of the song rise, he could see the exertion taking a toll on the dancers, the music gaining, building toward the crescendo, the dangers matching it with fortitude.

He watched with narrowed eyes, his mind supplying the first inklings of an idea. Didn't Lucius' death already show how divided they were? Were the Death Eaters vulnerable in other areas? It wasn't like Lucius and his ilk would have been throwing dinner parties with the bottom feeding scum, the despicable beings like Greyback.

Weren't they already divided?

His eyes widened and he could feel his heart begin to race. That...this was exploitable.

The music couldn't keep building, the dancers couldn't keep up their pace, and right as it pressed on, the pressure, reaching its zenith, suddenly snapped. Two whole beats of stillness, no music was heard, no movement from any of the dancers was taken, they stood atop their toes and waited, Harry's mind frozen with them. His thoughts stuck on a single salient solution.

Beaufort's voice was the only thing piercing the frozen moment in time as she counted out, instructing her charges, "Hold, two, three, and. Hold, two, three, four annnnnd…now!" She had counted out the first bar, the second and the fourth beat had dragged out until her loud voice had brought it all back into action.

The dancers twirled, coming together as they did so. When they were close together, they linked arms, their movements perfectly coordinated, feets, arms, shoulders, heads and torsos all working in perfect coordination between the three lines of dancers. They turned, joined together, they dropped and dipped one way, and then another, always together, always in sync.

Meanwhile the music drove on, it had built to its height, dropped off to nothingness and then picked itself right back up, as if a hiker had sprinted to reach the top of a hill and was taken aback by the sight before them. Speechless, breathless, they were held until their body kicked back into motion and they were frolicking gaily with their friends on a mountain plateau of bliss.

Harry sat mesmerized, lost between the incredible sight he was witnessing and his mind cementing the early foundations of his plan.

When he had leaned forward and rested his hands on the seat in front of him, he had no idea. His chin had joined his hand and his eyes were glued to Natalia, watching, transfixed by what was before him. He knew of ballet, he knew it was an art, but...this…

His heart was racing and his lips were smiling. It was a sole piece of advice but he couldn't stay here, not anymore. He had to get going, he had to think this over. His advisors wouldn't like it, they wouldn't want him to go for it.

It wasn't something he could pull off alone, he couldn't bypass them and just make an executive decision, resulting in decisive, perhaps impulsive, action like he had with Malfoy.

While Malfoy's death might later be claimed as the spark that set off the flames of a second blood war, if he went through with this…

It would either be a brilliant tactical plan that was executed well, a strategic plan that would guide, at the very least, the beginning stages of the conflict, or, it would be a blunder of epic proportions, one that would cost him his life and any others involved with it.

Harry couldn't sit here any longer. He stood and offered his hand to Ivan, "I need to head out. Thanks for the chat," he kept to a more neutral tone but he couldn't help some of his happiness from leaking out.

Ivan stood up and shook his hand, grunting as he did so. He looked annoyed and caught off guard at Harry's sudden departure. Before he let go of his grasp on Harry's hand he had one final thing to say. "The courting contract is still eligible for you to sign. Feel free to make use of it while negotiations are ongoing."

Harry's hand almost went limp. He still had that damned contract in the Chamber. Why would Ivan want him to sign it though?

He stepped past the man and exited the row. He walked sideways, almost backwards, as he left, wanting to see more of the rehearsal even though he knew he had to go and stop pushing his luck. A single mistake could be costly and things had gone well.

The only thing left to figure out was why did he bring up the courting contract again? That puzzled, worried, and set him on edge. His earlier high, on _finally_ coming up with an idea, dissipating and his worries about the Pavlov family not abating, not one iota.

He stole one final look at the stage. The dancers were whirling and twirling, moving in and out, lines intersecting and, somehow, none of the dancers colliding. It looks beautiful, lively and so very precise.

Harry backed out of the theater with a final thought, my, oh my, how things were becoming complicated.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry had arrived back at Hogwarts, the gates were open and so he had just decided to walk in. He needed time to let his thoughts run wild.

The most prevalent one was wondering where the line between brilliance and madness was? Was there overlap? Was it a venn diagram and not a border between them?

Did you have to be a bit mad to be brilliant?

The line must be blurred, Harry thought. His mind raced and he couldn't get this mad idea out of his head. It felt like this was definitely the right idea. Before he knew it, he'd arrived at the castle and the cacophony of noise emanating out of the Great Hall confirmed it was still time for lunch.

He turned to head towards the hall and just as he took his first purposeful step he heard a voice calling out his name. It was as if his whole body sighed at once, just a feeling of 'Now? it had to be him, _now_?'

"Hello, sir," he said respectfully to Dumbledore.

The man had that infuriatingly patient smile on his face, "How fortunate for me to run into you, on your way to lunch as well?" he asked as if he didn't know and that this was some actual happenstance.

While it was _possible_, Harry felt, it was more likely the Headmaster was aware of him arriving and made to intercept it. Again, it could be a coincidence, but he didn't think there was such a thing as coincidences when it came to Dumbledore.

"Yes," Harry gave a simple neutral reply.

"Ah, I am as well," his chin lowered and he lowered a grandfatherly gaze to Harry. "Care to join me? I'm not sure I've had a person of age to attend here up at the staff table before," his eyes twinkled merrily as he stroked his beard in thought.

Harry's eyes widened slightly, he had thought Dumbledore would get him to go for a private meal, not to join him in public, at the faculty table no less. "Sure, why not, it could be fun."

Harry followed the headmaster into the hall and felt the eyes of the hall settle on him. The young parseltongue looked around the hall, he saw his quidditch teammates at the Gryffindor table, Fleur amongst them, and, at the Hufflepuff table, he saw Cedric and Cho, they were seated beside Susan, Hannah and Daphne. The Greengrass Heiress caught his eye and shot him a questioning look. He shrugged back and turned his head back towards the venerable man before him.

Dumbledore arrived at his spot, drew his wand and gave it a flick, his normal chair moved backwards, out of the way. WIth an elaborate flourish he conjured an exact replica of the chair he had just removed, only it was smaller, leaving room for Harry and perfectly situated in front of the plate designated for him. Dumbledore sat down and turned to Harry, raising both eyebrows in expectation.

Harry brought his wand out of its holster and mimicked him to the best of his ability. He gave a flourish of his wand, with an exaggerated motion and silently conjured a chair that looked the exact same as Dumbledore's only it had the Potter and Black House crests on the backing of the chair. He sat down and the headmaster gave him a congenial smile.

"While I'd never doubt Minerva's word, it is always good to see her boasting of your transfiguration skill backed up. I dare say, that's a fine piece of conjuration for someone of your age."

Harry returned his look, his lips curving into a smile. "I'm glad you think so. Professor McGonagall has been an excellent tutor and I've worked hard under her direction."

"So I've heard. Filius has had excellent remarks about your progress. I'm led to believe your progress under both of them is nothing less than astounding." Dumbledore praised, casually using wandless magic to levitate food onto his plate.

Harry watched and saw Dumbledore's gaze flick down to his spoon. Harry rolled his eyes, was this going to be like a weird magical test? Simple wandless spells were something he had spent time on, mostly retrieving his wand, levitating and banishing. He concentrated and began to do the same, though he had to direct with his hands and not just levitate food without wand motions.

When Harry was done Dumbledore began to use his wandless magic to feed himself. He looked pointedly at Harry and watched Harry. With another challenge thrown down, he kept at it. This was more difficult, it required more concentration and careful control, he didn't want to drop something down his chest, being sat in front of the whole school.

"You'll find, if you keep doing most every task wandlessly, your control will increase rapidly and the difficulties you have with it will fade in no time at all. It is a tad onerous but well worth it in the long run," the headmaster lectured kindly, imparting some practical advice.

Harry thanked him for the tip and turned his eyes to take in what was happening in the Great Hall. His green eyes found the Gryffindor table and they met Fleur's beautiful blue ones. Her lips were pursed and she looked at him with detachment and what he thought was a brief look of longing, before it flashed away. Harry held her gaze until her face blanked, her eyelids closed rapidly in succession and then she looked down at her food, her fork pushing it around uselessly.

Harry let out a sigh and surveyed the rest of the hall. Eventually he made it over to the Slytherin table and saw Draco doing something remarkably similar to what Fleur had been doing. His fork was making the food mill around his plate, none ever coming up to his mouth. His skin paler than normal and he had deep bags under his eyes. Guilt welled up inside him until he crushed it ruthlessly, not allowing it to bother him. Lucius was a man that willingly unleashed part of Riddle's soul on a first year girl. He was the reason a basilisk almost killed multiple students.

No, he wouldn't be feeling any guilt about that, his lips pressed together and his nostrils flared as he thought that.

"Ah, I see you've noticed the troubled Mr Malfoy. He's been remarkably quiet, I'm told. Severus is keeping a close eye on him but the loss of his father is hitting him hard…losing one's father, a tragedy."

Harry stopped levitating his next bite when he heard that last word, it fell back down to his plate.

"Wouldn't you say so, Harry?" Dumbledore questioned him, his blue eyes looking through his glasses at the young Malfoy.

"I'm not sure I'd call it a tragedy in this case," Harry said neutrally. He began to continue to use wandless magic to eat again.

"You don't think so? He'd been a key Wizengamot member, even if you disagreed with his political stances, and, even under the close scrutiny of the DMLE, he had kept himself clean, ever since Voldemort fell," Dumbledore countered, his tone more curious than anything.

"His past sins have no bearing? His role with Riddle's diary means nothing?" Harry retorted sharply.

"Ah, there were consequences for those actions. His vaults paid dearly for the former and he lost any sway he held with the Hogwarts governors. Both actions had a consequence rendered."

Harry stopped eating and stared at the man incredulously. "A slap on the wrist, at best!" Harry whispered furiously.

"You believe he deserved his fate? Being murdered in cold blood, in his own home? Drowning isn't a quick or painless way to go and his murderer off in the wind, nobody the wiser. You believe this is just? That his wife has lost her husband and his son his father?" His voice didn't betray whether he actually believed the word he was saying or not.

Harry slipped his wand out from under the table and put up some privacy spells, he thought he would not have a need to but he didn't want to be overheard, and who knew where the conversation would turn to next.

Dumbledore noticed the magic and acknowledged he had no issues with it with a subtle movement of his head.

"The man was a Death Eater. He released a bloody _basilisk_ on the school! What would have happened if it had opened its gaze in this hall? That a _miracle_ occurred, and Fawkes kept me from dying, does not excuse his actions. And that the man was shrewd enough to not get caught since? It was Fudge's protection of him, it was his gold, and the fear people had of his reprisals that kept him from being in Azkaban where he belonged. You cannot tell me you really believe he was innocent and has kept so ever since."

Harry was seething internally, he hated playing this game with Dumbledore. He hated the way the man always pushed an unreasonable side to him. He could feel the hum of his magic, he could sense it's agitation and desire to do something to be rid of this annoyance. He squashed it, battling against the man sitting beside him was madness.

"The world is not filled with saints and wonderful people. There are always those who work for their own selfish ambitions, Harry. Lucius was always hamstrung by his ties to Fudge. He could not run and control things when he propped up an incompotent minister. Besides, the real power lay with the department heads. With Amelia overseeing the DMLE, Malfoy's little plans would always be limited in scope."

"Lucius' plots were never more than two dimensional. When I heard he was in a scuffle with the Weasleys, a muggle brawl of all things, it was beyond evident there was a plan afoot. Already I had been hearing that he was trying to plant the seeds that would sprout to my removal from Hogwarts should something befall it," Dumbledore was almost chiding in his tone, he was essentially mocking Malfoy for being an easily controlled enemy, one whose moves could be accounted for easily.

It brought forth a picture of Dumbledore catching Malfoy reaching into the cookie jar again. Them both knowing he was just going to get a stern scolding before he would eventually try it again, only for the ever watchful Dumbledore to catch him again, the cycle repeating ad nauseam.

"The Chamber of Secrets has ancient protections that have never allowed any headmaster to find or seal it off. That doesn't mean, through Hogwarts history, that they just allowed for anything like it to happen…Did you, perchance, know that there was a ward developed, centuries ago, for rendering a basilisk's gaze to petrify and not kill?"

Harry shook his head slowly. What Dumbledore had basically told him was that Malfoy was the evil patsy that you left in power just so you could keep a check on him. You knew he wouldn't outsmart you or do anything too bad. You'd just stay a step or two ahead of him and not have to worry about any actual nefarious plots happening.

"While it may benefit our society to not have any such men in power, there always will be, there always have been, throughout both muggle and magical history."

Dumbledore's words were piercing. He, at the very least, suspected it had something to do with Harry. This was coming off as too much of a lecture about unintended consequences and chastisement for rash actions.

Their meal continued as Harry thought over the words of the elder man. He wondered if there was something of a blunder in his action. Had he taken out a dangerous player or had he killed a patsy that appeared to play the part of a competent villian but was, in actuality, not capable at all.

This would be something he'd have to talk through with Horace and Cyrus. They would know far better than he, if Dumbledore's assertion was correct or not. He figured there would be truth to the notion but that seemed to be how political speech worked. Everything could be correct, from the right point of view.

"Do you mind if I ask a personal question, sir?" Harry spoke up after spending time thinking and levitating food in his mouth.

"Would you reciprocate, if I asked one after? Nothing too intrusive, of course," he gave that congenial smile again, and Harry agreed to it. "All right then, ask away, Harry."

Harry nodded and went for it, he'd been wanting to ask about the rumored relinquent relationship between Grindelwald and him. "Well, sir, I've been dealing with political offers for matches...and, I, uhm, wonder how you managed to stay single all this time. Surely you would have been bombarded by offers…" Harry was a bit hesitant and he didn't want to straight out ask about whether the man's love life was set by rituals or not, like Apolline had theorized.

Dumbledore chuckled slightly and brought his hand to his mouth, pressing a napkin to his lips. "While I didn't hear a question there, I'll wager you'd like to know why I didn't have any romantic entanglements throughout my life?"

"Yes," Harry answered simply, slightly embarrassed he'd not actually managed to ask a question.

"Well, that is not too difficult to answer. When I was young and an eligible young man, not unlike yourself, I was too engaged with academic pursuits to consider it, I spurned offer after offer, not always bothering to even reply as I was far too engrossed in my own pursuits," he took a sip of pumpkin juice, not bothering to lift the cup, instead, levitating the precise amount of liquid he wanted directly into his mouth, in a steady stream, as if he was drinking it from a goblet.

Harry smiled and decided that was something he would be trying, just not in front of everyone. Dumbledore would already have bested him, if this was a competition, but he was well on his way on catching up with his tricks, or so he thought.

"As a young man still, I had the closest thing to love with another, non-family member, that I've ever felt," he stroked his beard thoughtfully and then continued. "There was affection between us. Our shared love of magic, our drive to push the boundaries of what was possible, to discover new things and explore the depths of knowledge from those who came before us…" He paused and took another drink, this time physically moving the goblet up to his lips.

Harry listened carefully. Was the unsubstantiated rumor Apolline had told him true? Were he and Gellert Grindelwald that way together, had they been lovers?

"The truth is, Harry, although I have felt affection for others, none of it has been romantic in nature. I have many that I hold great affection for, love even, alas, none have been romantically. Minerva and I, I would say, have great affection for one another but it is a closeness of long term colleagues, of a friendship that has endured many trials."

Harry digested that. In some ways it fit easily into what Apolline had suggested, Dumbledore had no lover and never able to love anyone as a result. In other ways, it could be interpreted as just a man more wrapped up in his pursuit of academics than anything else. He could easily imagine someone like Viktor or Natalia being married to their career and not bothering with a love life.

Harry looked over to see Dumbledore was looking at him, his eyes dancing with amusement. "As you didn't ask a question, I didn't answer my own," he pointed out. "Back to the matter at hand, I found myself too interested in academics when I was young and by the time I would have considered it, I no longer had anything to gain from a political match that I could not provide on my own."

Harry went back to eating, mentally chewing on what he'd just heard. He noted it was kind of fun to eat using wandless magic. Trying to pull meat apart with magic, or cutting it, was an interesting exercise; it required fine control and trying to do it so it looked like he was just levitating it apart, like the headmaster was doing, was another challenge altogether.

"I hope you won't mind my prying, I had not seen such a well matched pair for many a year as you and Miss Delacour. If you don't mind my saying so, you are both strong, willful, intelligent and calling you both magically capable would be a great understatement. With all of that and you both being good-natured, I had thought you'd have married," his voice was gentle and if he wasn't the one prying, which Harry had specifically allowed, he might have sounded sorry he had been doing so.

Harry gave a half-hearted smirk, "Was there a question there headmaster?" The irony of the situation was not lost on either of them, neither truly felt humorous at the notion however.

Finishing the last of his soft chuckles, "I've seen you two have been distant but neither of you appear to have a lasting issue with the other. You've looked at her with longing and she has given you similar looks, covertly, since we have been eating together," he observed, again, without asking a question.

Harry had stopped eating again at this point, his chin was brought in, towards his body and his eyes were firmly fixed on his plate, this time his levitating was just moving food around his plate.

"Did something happen between you, personally, or was there a political decision made to not pursue her?"

Harry swallowed and didn't want to answer. The man beside him had been forthcoming in his answer and he felt obligated that he should reciprocate, as he'd pledged to do. With a sigh escaping from his lips first he answered. "She wasn't pleased when I informed her that I would be negotiating with another party as well. Patrice knew first and I told Fleur as soon as I'd decided upon that course of action…" Harry stopped and looked over to the beautiful silver-blonde that was now laughing with the chaser trio.

Fleur must have felt his eyes on her and her blue eyes met his green ones. She looked at him, the previous anger missing. Her eyes softened and she looked tender, a mixture between upset and despondent. Harry watched as she turned and spoke something to Katie, who was seated directly beside her before she excused herself and got up from the table, making her way out of the hall.

Harry watched her go and didn't continue to answer, he knew Dumbledore's keen eyes would have missed this silent exchange.

He sighed once more, something he was doing with too much regularity while thinking or being around Fleur, "It wasn't so much of a break up, I'd like to be with her and, I think, Fleur still likes me but…" Harry swallowed down the emotions welling up inside him. "But I've made a choice and I understand she wouldn't be willing to accept there being a political match as well."

Harry kept staring out the doors of the Great Hall, toward the place he was able to last glimpse Fleur. As much as he'd driven her from his mind, as much as he'd avoided seeing her...when he did though…

Fuck. It wasn't supposed to hurt like this.

It was so easy to talk the talk but not walk the walk. Mentally he'd come up with what he had thought were realistic rational reasons why it wouldn't be difficult to walk away from her love. In some ways it wasn't, when he was with Natalia, earlier today, and later again tonight, she'd driven any missing of Fleur well away from his mind.

But when he was reminded of her, or, when in her presence...especially in her presence, he missed her terribly. He wanted to go back to how things were _so _badly. He could have snuck up behind her, wrapped his arms around her, and planted a kiss on her, maybe, if he was lucky, she'd turn her head and their lips would meet.

Damn, that hurt, it made his stomach clench into knots just to think about it. He didn't dare close his eyes and risk a picture of that scene popping up the second he closed them. He sighed again, yes, this was becoming a horrid habit, sighing all the bloody time.

"It may come across poorly, coming from me, but, from a man that has never felt romantic love for another, I'd think carefully on passing on such an opportunity. Love may only come once and, true love...it's a magic of its own." Dumbledore kept silent and Harry turned to look at the man. Love advice from a man that has never experienced it, he almost snorted.

"It was not politics that saved you from Tom, it was not gold or magical ability. It was love, Harry. Love defeated a monster; love protects you from him, to this very day. Do not discount it, do not scoff at it and deride its miraculous powers." There was an earnestness to his voice now, an underlying sense of urgency.

This was not Dumbledore testing his abilities with wandless magic, this wasn't a playful man or one trying to keep something from him. This was a lesson he thought Harry _needed_ to hear, one he should heed.

And that gave him cause to pause.

What was his goal here? Was he trying to push Harry and Fleur together? Was he giving heartfelt advice, wanting Harry to experience something he had missed out on life? The headmaster appeared earnest, wholehearted even. Harry frowned, it was so difficult to tell, for all he knew he was trying to push him towards a pairing he would prefer.

He took a deep breath and centered himself. Thinking about Fleur and worrying about Dumbledore's motives made it difficult to keep his head clear and focused, which he needed right now, and any time really, whenever he spoke with the headmaster.

"I believe, unwaveringly, that if Tom had experienced love, pure unadulterated love, from his mother, his father, or from a romantic partner, he would never have become the monster he became," Dumbledore said softly with a tiredness and a voice steeped in regret.

"I want differently for you, Harry, my boy," Dumbledore's eyes bore into his own, this wasn't a polite and friendly chat any longer. This was what Dumbledore had wanted, this is why they had a coincidental meeting in the castle entry.

"I can feel it, Harry. I can sense you are nearing the end of your rituals," his gaze turned serious and something between them hardened. "I've felt this progression before, I know you've found _something_, something that a young Tom Riddle once did, as well." The air between them changed, magic saturated it and the presence of him became overpowering, overwhelming.

"I know, Harry, I've felt it before." There was a definite shift between them now, Harry could feel the _power_ of the man sitting beside him, he was an ocean, a veritable magical generator, one so controlled that even though he was flexing, Harry didn't feel threatened at all. This, this was Albus _fucking_ Dumbledore, this was the sole wizard who could singlehandedly neutralize Voldemort's presence on the battlefield, the Albus Dumbledore that ended a war with a single duel.

"You've done rituals too, I know that," Harry challenged, not backing down, neither man threatening each other, neither of their magics being harnessed as to be ready to strike, Harry's own magic answering his call, not allowing himself to be encroached upon.

"I have," Dumbledore said in a deep commanding voice, no reticence in his voice, "Seven with Gellert as a young man, though older than yourself, and fourteen more before I faced him, before I defeated him." Harry felt his eyebrows try and reach his hairline, that, that was an unexpected admission.

"But mine were a combined effort of two of the most prodigious minds of this century _and_ the backing of the Flamel's, the only two who had been alive since before rituals were almost forgotten. And, and, I only did _three_ sets of seven, not _seven_ sets of seven."

Fuck. He totally knew _exactly_ what Harry was doing. He knew of the link with Voldemort and he knew the exact amount of rituals he was doing.

The powerful man beside him wasn't going to be backing down from this. This was a confrontation, one he wanted, sought, and was now getting, getting in the middle of the faculty table at the front of Hogwarts' Great Hall of all places. Harry was locked into this and not a single student had any idea.

"Your magic is erratic. It is unsettled. As it gets to the final one it will become worse. There is nothing to do but complete your set, any failure to do so will be catastrophic. I cannot stress this enough. Do forty-eight and your magic will unravel itself, it will corrode and corrupt you until you are a shell of your former self."

Harry held the man's gaze unflinchingly, he already knew that. If he didn't complete the set he was fucked. There was no other possibility. It was like making a potion, as long as you are still adding to the mixture, still applying heat and being careful and precise, the mixture will not blow up in your face. However, if you keep it on the heat in perpetuity, or if you begin adding random ingredients, eventually it _will_ destabilize and have horrific results.

"Do fifty and you will spend the rest of your life trying to complete three sets of seven sets of seven rituals, an unfathomable number. Oh, you can keep up doing rituals at a regular pace, you can even slow it down to once a week… But for how long? How long could you keep it stable?"

Harry kept his mouth shut, Dumbledore hadn't yet concluded his point, he hadn't hit the crux of the issue yet, but, he soon would.

"I pray Harry, I pray that I have not witnessed you throwing your life away by delving into magic you cannot hope to comprehend at your age. Perhaps it is I who has failed, yet again, failed to educate you to know better than this," he looked tired and stricken for a moment, one that passed quickly before his rarefied resolve rallied and continued, "I couldn't prevent Tom from crossing the threshold, I couldn't keep him to forty-nine rituals once he started. I wasn't able to prevent him from starting them and neither have I for you."

Albus Dumbledore stood up now, pushing his chair back, the wooden legs scraping along the stone flooring. "Know this, Harry Potter. I've defeated one Dark Lord. I've held off a second and I will not. _I will not _see the rise of a third."

Dumbledore grew dark and heavy, grim and determined, hard and unshakeable, his face carved out of stone, his blue eyes frozen and unrelenting.

"Know this, Harry Potter, hit fifty and I. Will. End. You."

Dubmledore stabbed with his wand, Harry's privacy spells shattering, melting away as if he'd just shoved a hot knife through butter. Dumbledore lifted his non wand arm above his head, in perfect timing with Fawkes swooping down, from only Merlin knew where, and the second they touched, the two disappeared in a ball of flames.

All eyes in the hall turned to Harry, to a Harry Potter who was looking at where the revered man had just left from, gobsmacked and reeling from the threat that was just delivered, a threat he believed, with every ounce of his being, would be carried out.

His breathing was erratic, his mouth open and he felt fear, understanding, for the first time, the oft repeated statement, '_Dumbledore is the only wizard You-know-Who ever feared'._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Another chapter in the books and that's the 40th! Craziness.
> 
> Thanks to Nauze & Triage for all the wonderful beta work! Speaking of Triage, there is a new fic that Triage is the author of. An ultra-rare paring too, Harry x Katie! Check it out if you'd like:
> 
> Harry Potter and the Crystal of Lost Dreams by Triage the Potterfan - on FF
> 
> Thanks to all that have commented, subscribed, kudos and reading the fic. I've received a lot of support and it's appreciated. Feel free to join the discord, check my profile for that and I'll see you next chapter. Stay safe, healthy and sane!


	41. Three Is A Magical Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Thanks, as always, to Triage & Nauze for their awesome beta work! Quick, effective and efficient!
> 
> Feel free to join the discord server, link in my profile, just remove the spaces. Nauze even likes to troll with vague hints as to what's coming in the next chapter. (B/N: As if Salient doesn't either)
> 
> Thanks to all who have left comments, gave kudos, subscribed and enjoyed reading it. Stay safe & healthy during these mad covid times.

He thought he'd told Natalia before, and he was thinking it again, but Harry really could get used to this. Waking up in bed with Natalia, again, was just...wonderful.

It didn't have _all_ that much to do with the fact Nataia had joined him in bed with only a tee shirt and panties on, and although the shirt was long enough to cover down to the bottom of her arse's cheeks, even if barely, her shirt had ridden up during the night and was now most of the way up her torso. The lower part, almost two-thirds of her body was only covered by one small, delicate item of clothing.

Wonderful wasn't really a strong enough word for the sight before him…Amazingly wonderful?

Wow, his brain was totally not functioning properly this early if that was the best he could come up with. Perhaps it was the more centralization of blood flow keeping it from reaching his head, well, the upper one anyways…

It was funny that this was now the third time he'd 'shared' a bed with a girl and he'd been almost entirely chaste everytime. Even now, with quite a lot of her arse bared before him, as she was lying prone on her front, he could, ostensibly, run his hands all over it, maybe even get away with a few squeezes on her bare flesh. But, as before, he refrained from even doing that.

There would be a time and place for progressing their physical side along but Harry wasn't the kind of lad who would be taking something she hadn't explicitly offered. As much as he'd love to do what his mind was envisioning, it just felt wrong and he wouldn't succumb to his baser desires. Instead, he'd settle for the great position he was in now, watching the amazing beauty beside him sleep, admiring what was there to be seen, his eyes taking in her strong muscular legs and following up her hamstrings, to where the curve of her cheek met it.

He'd always imagined it would be a bit more plump or, like, more curved, but it was more of a toned curve than a rounded one. It's not like he was disappointed or anything, it was an _incredibly_ enticing sight and he couldn't help his body reacting naturally to it.

This was something he hadn't really done before. When he had been around Fleur, even with her top off, he didn't have an opportunity to just stop and stare at the young woman's body and just take in everything he could about it. With Fleur, he had always been acting, his hands busy exploring, his lips occupied and his eyes entranced by her breasts and picking his next target for his hands and lips. Not that he hadn't enjoyed that immensely and that he wouldn't want to re-enact that with Natalia in the near future, _very near_, if he was fortunate.

This was just different. This was just more visceral and less physical, just an alternative form of delightfulness.

Harry's eyes were drawn up to her face as she turned her head, Natalia would've been able to see him now, if only her eyes had been open. With closed eyes, she yawned, arms rising above her head as she did so. Her lips elicited such cute little noises as the beautiful young woman's eyes began to flutter open.

Harry smiled, "Good morning, Natalia," he said softly and extended his arm so the back of his hand could caress her cheek.

Natalia nuzzled into the contact and mummered, "Mmm, that's nice." Harry kept if up for another half minute or so, and then, having gained confidence from her obvious enjoyment of what he was doing, he got slightly more adventurous, running his hand down the side of her neck, down her shoulder and then dropped down her side.

There wasn't any audible reaction but from the way she pushed her body into it, and kept creeping closer towards him, signaled her obvious approval. Harry decided that this had been more than enough encouragement and moved over himself before he turned his body, ending up on his side. Harry's arm now had far more reach, and thus access, to roam around her back. He let his hand slip down her side, until he hit the top of her panties. Finding that, he used them as a guide to trace his fingers across to the middle of her back, just at the top of her arse.

Harry could feel his heart rate going up, and the more he caressed her soft skin, the more turned on he was becoming, it was like every few seconds things amplified. His hand continued to run along her back, going up and down, side to side, and his fingers splaying to get ahold of as much of her bare skin as possible.

Harry kept it up and he continued to push things little by little, and, _coincidentally,_ of course, her shirt kept getting pushed higher and higher by his gentle ministrations. As he kept it up, he began being more adventurous still. His fingers began running further down her sides, trying to not be obvious that his fingers were trying to find where her side ended and her breast began. He tried to disguise it by running his fingers _close_ to where her breast might begin and then keeping it in that line down her _entire_ side.

Everytime he pressed to find that boundary, Harry swore he could feel her suck in a breath in heightened anticipation. The one thing he was absolutely sure of, was when he let a tiny bit of his fingers slip inside the back of her panties, she would lift her hips and press into the new found contact. He'd hear her let out a tiny moan of disappointment when his hand would slide back up, but, with her clothes still on, and no express permission given, he wasn't willing to push things too far.

How long he continued to feel her body, how long he kept pushing the boundaries, he didn't know. He kept this up, always with her approval, but eventually, her slight moans and enjoyment weren't enough for her. Natalia rolled over and stared up at him full of burning desire, her head resting back on the pillow. She grabbed a hold of his arm and pulled him on top of her.

Harry swallowed as he looked down, her silk bottoms were dipped lower than the tops of her hips, though they didn't show anything but smooth skin. His earlier work, the gradual movement of her shirt up had caused it to be pulled taut across her chest. Only the bottom of the swell of her breasts had kept it from floating up higher. With the back of her shirt being raised higher, it made it look like her top was trying to slide up higher on her chest and was only barely held in place by the assets on her chest.

Harry almost licked his lips in anticipation, he descended down onto hers and felt her hands reach up to begin exploring his body and he quickly lifted off his shirt to better accommodate her desire. His green eyes looked down at her and then flicked down to her shirt before settling on her eyes again. The movements asking the question he dared not vocalize, but desperately wanted to hear, or see, approval of.

Both of Natalia's hands went to the hem of her shirt, crossing as they did so. Harry felt his heart begin to try and beat a way out of his chest. He could see that her nipples were hard and trying to poke out of the constraiting shirt. But, she didn't immediately pull it off.

Harry needily looked at her in question, silently asking if there was something wrong. She looked at him and a flash of concern went across her face and the hesitance was all Harry needed to know. He had wanted her to do it but it needed to be something that Natalia wanted to do as well, not just him. He wanted her but _only_ if she wanted him to have her.

Harry placed his hands on her arms and then leaned down, gently holding them in place. He exhaled his disappointment and felt his heart slow. Softly, he kissed her, starting with her bottom lip, moving to both, the top lip and then following a straight line towards her ears. Harry stopped his lips from gently kissing her and whispered, "It's okay." He waited for her to say something, to contradict him and change the course their morning was now headed in, but it never came. He pushed her arms away, forcing them to release her shirt, and dropped his lips onto hers one final time.

Harry sat back up and looked down at her. His earlier need was ebbing; the moment had been locked, her hesitance had wrecked things. Now, he looked down at her but felt as though there was a barrier of awkwardness between them.

Their last kiss no longer matched their earlier intensity. He sighed and pulled away, rolling off of her, and flopping onto the bed beside her. He stared at the ceiling as his chest moved up and down, his blood pressure falling and his body normalizing. Disappointment welled up within him, after he had been so excited. He swallowed then blinked rapidly, willing his body to not react to that kind of rejection.

Maybe he'd pushed too quickly? But hadn't Natalia been the one to wear so little? Hadn't she been the one to roll over and slip her hands inside his shirt. If she hadn't wanted to do more, then why had she grabbed the bottom of her top? Why had she allowed him to slip fingers inside her panties? Had she just backed out at the moment she was about to bare her breasts before him?

He stifled a groan and tried to turn it into a yawn, though it ended more like a sigh than a typical yawn. He quickly decided to get up and get on to breakfast, he didn't want to stay in bed with her anymore, even as her hand came to rest on his chest.

"Harry?" she asked, her tone shy and unsure, delicate, brittle even.

He didn't look back at her, worried her enticing body might be too much to resist coming back to, especially if she had taken off her shirt, after the earlier reluctance.

"It's time to get up. I'm hungry," he said quickly and threw on some of his training clothes, a shirt and pants, the two articles of clothing he wandlessly levitated to him. After his talk with Dumbledore last night, he wanted to keep practicing it every second, as the more he did, the better he would get. Harry wanted to do it until his familiarity with it became monotonous.

"O-okay…" Her voice was even smaller and despondent.

Harry didn't turn back, he moved out of the bedroom and went to the study, where he normally took his breakfast. He arrived at the desk, where two plates with food already on it and a third plate, empty, in front of the second chair, sat. He knew Dobby hadn't put the food on it yet, as Natalia hadn't been just about to enter the room, he was weirdly efficient like that.

Cuddles was already in the room and was right in front of her plate of raw meat, a whole plateful of meat that was a couple inches thick. She quickly began roasting a small part of it with her breath and started to devour it.

Harry smiled faintly, there was something so comforting about his familiar. She was so trusty and always there for him, even when he was frustrated and a bit disappointed. Sometimes it was just hard to wrap his mind around the fact that he had a fucking _dragon_. Sure, she was all small and cuddly, most of the time, but if anyone saw her in the Forbidden Forest, if anyone had seen the destruction she was capable of, they'd know the sight of true fear, her maw open and turned to you, the back of her throat alight with the fires which were fractions of a second away from ending your pitiful existence.

Yet, here she was, his, and quietly eating atop his desk. It was strange, bizzare and her presence so, so, so comforting to him. Harry could just _feel_ Cuddles when she was anywhere near his person. He gazed fondly at her and let his food grow cold as he just pet her and centered himself within her calming presence.

Harry heard movement behind him and went to greet Natalia with a reassuring hug, his previous disappointment was mostly gone and it wasn't like he was going to break up with her or anything. However, it was not Natalia who stepped into the office. It was Daphne.

Her eyes widened as he stepped into her personal space but when he backed up she asked, "Morning, Harry," she said, her eyes narrowing at his odd greeting, "Are you okay?"

Harry backpedalled and went to quickly sit in his chair. He noticed there was now a third chair at the desk, one which must have materialized while he was fondly watching Cuddles. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" Harry replied hurriedly, now worried about Natalia walking in. Daphne wasn't normally here this early and how would it look to her?

"You just kind of took off, shortly after Dumbledore did his theatrics," her lips were pinched together and she shook her head slowly. "What did he say, or, why did he even do that?" she asked as she sat opposite him.

"Oh, just that he knows, or suspects, that I was behind Malfoy and that it was wrong to do. Then, you know, the usual," he shrugged and forked a mouthful of eggs.

Daphne raised an eyebrow at him, elegantly, awaiting clarification as to what that meant.

Harry chewed his eggs and swallowed before answering nonchalantly, "Just a threat to '_end me_'," he said, using air quotes with his free hand, "if I get to fifty rituals," he opened his mouth and shoved a generous helping of food into it.

Daphne blinked, then blinked again. For good measure she did it a third time, her face utterly blank before it morphed into latent fury, "He _threatened _you?!"

Harry shrugged again, enjoying this, "Yeah, compared me to Riddle and everything. Said he wouldn't let me become a monster, the third Dark Lord to rise under his watch. If I do too many rituals, even just _one _too many, he'd be coming for me," Harry said, and found it kind of odd how lightly he was saying it, even to his own ears. He didn't doubt that Dumbledore would actually try and put an end to him.

"And you just came here to sleep and aren't freaking out _because_?" Daphne asked in a tone that was more than slightly incredulous, she still hadn't started eating her food.

Harry shrugged again, making a habit of doing that whenever Daphne asked him anything this morning, and finished chewing his food before answering again, "What am I gonna do? I don't plan to do fifty rituals. So, it's not like I should really be all that worried?" The last part came out as a question when she began to frown heavily.

Really, from everything he had read, it was _NEVER_ in the plans doing more than the forty-nine. So, why would he ever, deliberately, do a fiftieth? It felt like an asinine worry to him. It's not like he was so anxious that he was going to do something like shoot himself in the head, he didn't own a muggle gun and never planned on purchasing one. What was he supposed to concern himself with that too?

Daphne had opened her mouth to respond but then closed it and adopted a look of consternation before shrugging and simply saying, "Okay." She then began to eat her own breakfast, which had generously been provided by the invisible, impressive, infallible and impeccable Dobby.

"Okay, just like that? No comment about Malfoy even?" Harry asked, disbelief of his own creeping into his voice.

It was Daphne who kept up the 'shrugging at questions routine' this time, humor dancing in her eyes, "It's not like you would have told him anything concrete and, as you said, you'd never do an extra ritual, so, what's there to worry about?" She held her stoic face for a few seconds and then began to laugh.

Harry began to as well and this was the scene Natalia walked in on, still only clad in a tee shirt, though this time it was one of Harry's clean quidditch jerseys accompanied by a fresh pair of back silk panties. The combination was incredibly alluring and more risqué than the previous one, if the quick flash he had gotten was any indication.

Natalia's eyes widened and her head backed up in surprise, at seeing Daphne. She looked embarrassed for a second, pulling down the jersey to cover a little more, by way of stretching it, trying to preserve a tiny shred more of her modesty.

Suddenly however, she stopped, jutting out her chin and letting go of the shirt. Natalia took a few purposeful steps and wrapped herself around Harry's back and turned his head, by way of grabbing his chin, and then placed a heated kiss on his lips.

The suddenly confident seductress then sauntered to her seat, coming to a stop on the far side of the chair. Then, using some of her ballerina training, Natalia brought her leg up over the back of the chair, forcing her to twist around on a single foot and stretch airborne her leg up high. It just so _happened_ to be the leg closer to Harry that went vertical and, in doing so, exposed, momentarily, an unbelievably flexible and unhibited view of her pantie clad crotch.

Harry had been watching her out of the corner of his eye but when her leg went up, he'd turned his entire head and his eyes had bulged at the view he was presented with. Natalia sat down as if that wasn't some outrageous display and began to eat her yogurt and granola with mixed fruit, a light yet hearty meal.

"Do you eat breakfast with Daphne often? I didn't see her the last time I slept over." Natalia asked and commented in a way that came across as trying to be too casual.

Harry was debating how to answer but Daphne beat him to it, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not though.

"No, usually he's training in the mornings and I normally eat in the Great Hall. I grabbed a quick snack on my way here today, but Dobby apparently doesn't believe I've eaten enough yet," she answered sweetly.

Harry noticed her fare was lighter than both of the other breakfasts but it wasn't entirely meager. Daphne turned her attention to Harry and her far too innocent look worried Harry.

"You didn't tell me the dress code down here was just 'Harry's jersey and panties'. Do you know if a thong would be okay instead?" she asked, putting her finger on her chin, her eyes wide and innocent as the young heiress made herself look as if she was in deep thought. "I much prefer them and it would be _so_ much more comfortable to study down here for hours, all alone, with just Harry for company...it gets ever so stuffy in here, with the fireplace. I just didn't know that was an option for when I get, _oh,_ _so_ _very_ hot."

Harry didn't know whether to groan in frustration, because a catfight might be breaking out here, or grin stupidly, thinking that two gorgeous girls might be in his jersey and a thong sans everything else. The latter prospect held the slight advantage and he sat there, frozen in his indecision.

"It's not a dress code but it _is _comfortable. You can join me if you'd like," Natalia challenged back, daring her to remove some clothes.

Harry did the smart thing here. He shut his mouth, adopted as blank a look as possible, no way in hell he was going to comment either way. If he eagerly said he would love to see more of Daphne's body, then Natalia might flip on him; and, if he declined, then that may upset Daphne. Honestly, Harry was learning; there were certain circumstances with women, where either answer would cause him trouble and he was getting to know how to avoid these situations altogether.

"Another time, perhaps. I don't have anything on under my pants and I'm not sure Harry could handle me in _just_ a jersey," Daphne teased and gave Harry a saucy wink for effect.

"It's alright, I get you're _younger_ and not as well _developed_. Or, maybe," Natalia stood, her eyes boring into Daphne's, "you're just ashamed of what your clothes are hiding." She was almost sneering now and placed her thumbs on the sides of her hips, pushing them down her bare skin and dipping them into the top of the sole article of clothing preventing her lower half from being fully on display. Slowly, staring at Daphne, she lowered them, scarcely a millimeter at a time.

Harry's eyes were glued onto Natalia's actions until something drew his gaze. His eyes sought the movement they'd caught and he saw that Daphne had taken off her outer robe and was glaring at Natalia, her chest jutted out and she took two steps, getting around to the side of the desk, advancing on Natalia like a predator stalking in for the kill.

Natalia didn't back down and stepped to the side, so she was directly in front of Daphne, her thumbs no longer moving down and, quite unfortunately in Harry's opinion, they had only lowered the edges of her black silk panties an inch, not even enough to affect the height of the front or back.

As the two got closer to each other, Harry slipped his wand into his hand. As much as it might be awesome to see them fight, or perhaps lose more articles of clothing, he didn't want to let things escalate anymore. If this was the kind of thing he was going to have to get used to, if he married more than one girl, he may as well drop the idea. It wouldn't be worth these sort of headaches becoming a regular occurence.

Just as Daphne had taken another step forward, Natalia launched herself forward and wrapped Daphne up in a hug, giggling and laughing, Daphne doing the same, mirroring her actions.

Harry stared at them, bewildered. What had just happened?

The two separated and turned to face him, smiling, their faces filled with merriment and their body language totally relaxed, aside from the letting out of the last few giggles.

Daphne, who was smiling widely, her arm wrapping around Natalia, spoke up in explanation, "We planned this, Harry. Don't be upset," she said gently, as a frown formed on Harry's face, "I'm in contact with Natalia too and knew that her family was going to force her into her current predicament. The two of us secretly made this plan because if you had known about it, Ivan might've seen through false reactions."

Harry crossed his arms and stared down the two of them, his eyebrows furrowed as he stood. He widened his stance as Cuddles stopped her eating and flew up to perch herself on Harry's shoulder, her tail wrapping around the back of his neck.

"The Pavlov family wanted Natalia to vow to seduce you, and for her agreement, they'd fund the ballet production, thus, getting her away from them. In return, we also got them to swear to not interfere in her attempts at the seduction. Plus, the biggest concession was that if you found out about it, she would then be free to talk about it, though she'd still have to attempt to seduce you until they released her, or, you were married."

Natalia gasped and then looked so elated, free, happy. "Finally!" She cheered and hugged Daphne one more, giving her a kiss on the cheek as well, before she bounced over to Harry, intending to glomp him.

Cuddles let out an angry screech and puffed out a short burst of fire, stopping Natalia in her tracks. Harry's arms hadn't uncrossed and he, as of yet, was not mollified by their explanation.

Harry looked sharply at Daphne, "You've just told me you manipulated me, working with Natalia behind my back," he turned to Natalia, no less angry, "and _you_ just agreed that you are trying to seduce me on your parents orders," he grit out, trying to not let his frustrations over take him. "What _neither_ of you have told me, is how that whole plan is a good thing, for me. Explain."

Natalia, who had pulled back instead of continuing toward an upset and angry little dragon, was now looking abashed and winced at the harsh truth of his words. "Sorry, I guess we should have done that first," she spoke up shyly. "Sorry, Harry. Really," she added the last part with emphasis.

"The courting contract has a mechanism for knowing if we, err, do it. So, if you get locked into it and then they find out you have taken advantage of it, they will gain leverage in the negotiations." Natalia explained solemnly, her face mirroring her tone, as if she was willing for Harry to believe and trust her.

"Okay..and this?" He pointed to the two of them.

"Natalia had the idea and wanted to check it over with me, to make sure it would work. She put in the clause about being able to talk about it, knowing I would be able to tell you, the day after it went into effect, and we discussed how to not make the vow do anything that could actually be a problem," Daphne explained, her words still not satisfying Harry.

"I'm failing to see how going forward with this isn't going to be a problem. There are magical ways of seeing if someone is a virgin, whether I sign the courting contract or not," Harry said dryly.

"Don't you see it though? I promised to try and seduce you, I didn't vow I would, or even gave any timeline to it. I can keep trying to seduce you as long as you want me to, with no consequences for failure; plus, it's not like I don't want to do what we did this morning, and more," she smiled shyly again, realizing what she had just admitted to him, in front of another person.

"Except, you weren't all that interested in going further this morning," Harry pointed out, not reacting to her previous admission, though her point about not giving a timeline was a good one. That would be an effective way to prolong and essentially negate the oath. As long as she tried, or meant to _eventually_ seduce him, the vow wouldn't really force anything on him at all.

Natalia huffed. "I was trying to make sure you knew _this_, so I didn't want to push things along and then have you thinking I was just doing it because of the vow," Natalia told him indignantly. "Vow or no vow, I've wanted to push things past just kissing for a while now," she exasperated, throwing her hands up and letting them drop. "You're too damn noble and I was worried about what my family could extort if we let them gain any sort of leverage over you. I only kept my shirt on because you didn't know about the vow yet."

Harry exhaled deeply. There was no use getting overly emotional here. Natalia's explanation made sense and would explain why one hand had wanted to go up while the other held the shirt in place.

"Look, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't want to let any chance of them knowing that we turned their plans back around against them. We let you know right away and Natalia swore she would be careful before I had a chance to bring you into the loop," Daphne lifted her hands up, slight above her waist, palms forward and she ducked her head as she did so. "We weren't working on manipulating you or anything. We're just trying to protect you, honestly."

Harry grunted, satisfied with their answers but it didn't change his mood to suddenly be happy again. Cuddles huffed out a small fireball and then dove off Harry's shoulder, content to go back to cooking and eating the rest of her food, now that she didn't need to protect Harry any longer.

He sighed and looked over at Natalia, who was standing there, her hands clasped together and restless. He held out his arms and gestured for her to come closer. He stepped toward her and gave her a hug, running his hand down her hair soothingly. He released her and indicated, with a movement of his head, that he was going to finish his food.

"Thanks," he said sincerely as he sat back down and picked up his cutlery. "I'm a bit touchy when it comes to manipulation and what feels like betrayal," he offered as an explanation for why he had snapped at them.

"It's our fault as well. I could have told you last night or brought you in on it from the start." Daphne said, accepting his thanks but not excusing herself of her own part that contributed to it.

"I could have asked Daphne to tell you. I'm worried our books are monitored, based on some conversations with mother and father," Natalia looked sheepish and apologetic as well.

Harry nodded and waved it off, he was willing to look past it; he wouldn't know of every scheme and everything that affects him. He knew he would still be irritated but resolved to not let that bother him, they'd learn a lesson here or Harry would find out that it wasn't learnt and ensure it couldn't happen again.

"So I can't entertain the possibility of going all the way with Natalia, that's the plan then?" Harry didn't like how that killed the idea of doing the virginity ritual. Ever since he learned of that, he'd been wanting to make Natalia _his._ Never letting someone else sink their claws in Natalia. The very idea of it was something he abhorred, hated with every fiber of his being. If Natalia was to be _his,_ then he wanted it to be all of her, not have her beholden to her family.

It was the same with Fleur. If he had agreed to take her as his only wife, then Harry knew he'd get all of her. She'd be his, _fully_ his, and he'd never have to share her. The Delacour family would never deign to consider making their daughter swear Unbreakable Vows to their own greedy ends.

At the end of the day, if someone was going to be his, his wife, partner, and mate, then they'd be fully his. If any dared to try and take them from him, once they were his, if any tried to control them, then they'd feel his fiery wrath. A fully grown Cuddles would be the least of their worries because he'd only let her feast on their charred carcass.

It was an anathema to him, that he'd marry someone that wasn't fully his, and, yet, it made him feel duplicitous to think that way. That he would demand all of them, all their loyalty, all their magic, all their being and yet, at the same time, he'd be asking them to be okay with them _sharing_ him.

But that wasn't completely true. In one sense, the obvious one, they'd be sharing him. At the same time, it wasn't quite so obvious. Harry would give each one of them all of himself, they'd get every fiber of his being. He'd love them with all that he was, he'd care for them as if they were the most precious things in the world, each of them, individually, would receive that.

It was funny how he had always thought of just having one wife, a couple kids, hopefully one of each gender, and then go to work at a normal job and do things like cut his grass and keep up his flower beds so he had one of the nicest homes on the blocks. It was something that had been born out of a twisted desire to prove Vernon and Petunia wrong.

Harry had wanted to show them he could do what Vernon could, but better. He had wanted to get a better wife than Petunia, prettier, more successful and with a child of each gender, something that Petunia was loath to admit she had desired and failed to achieve. His whole purpose for having a family was one born from his longing of having something he had desperately wanted as a child, something the Dursley family had ensured he had never had.

It had taken extensive discussion with Horace for him to understand that some of his worldviews were the result of an unhappy childhood. They had talked about how Harry wasn't a muggle, how he shouldn't be someone who should only aspire to be normal, adequate or average. He was Harry Potter, an extraordinary young man who had the ability to bring about changes to the wizarding world. So, why would he limit himself, why would he let his future be defined by muggles who were disgusting examples of human beings?

Horace had talked with him until he began to understand that the way he viewed the world, growing up, wasn't necessarily correct. That his mother had been somewhat like him, competitive and wanted to outdo her sister. Horace had to, with her and now Harry as well, point out that basing their goals around other's inadequacies was inherently wrong.

This was something he was still coming to terms with.

"Actually, I was thinking the opposite," Daphne said, breaking through his brooding.

Harry's head snapped up, completely spaced out, "Wot?"

"Well, the leverage that they hoped to gain on you is a double-edged sword," Daphne said with the grin he knew meant trouble for someone, often him, from having spent a lot of time together down in the Chamber.

"The Pavlov's believe that the contract will trap you and that they could sully your reputation by threatening to break off the courtship while releasing to the press that you two had been intimate. It has the potential to become a scandal, forever tarnishing your reputation," Daphne explained.

He mulled that over and saw an issue, "But they'd be breaking off the negotiations, not me," Harry pointed out that if they were going to try and make it into a scandal it would look much worse if his side was the one to break off negotiations. Their plan may have a weakness. Harry could go to the press and tell them that he wanted to marry Natalia and they were the ones to break it off, not him.

Natalia huffed out a breath and sulked, keeping silent, shooting Harry an apologetic look and turning back to Daphne, waiting for her to respond.

Daphne's eyes softened, when she returned Natalia's look, and she gave a slight nod to her, before replying. "They'd have already leaked out that you were making unreasonable demands, knowing that you'd first ruined her as 'spoiled goods' to future prospects."

"But with my word against theirs? With their reputation versus mine?" Harry questioned with a frown, he was skeptical that it would tarnish his reputation all that badly, should the worst happen.

"You don't think 'pubescent celebrity gets enamoured with a pretty girl and couldn't keep it in his pants' is believable? That the press wouldn't love to cover a scandal like that? Even if you put out an interview with the truth, some would think you were lying, that you were just doing damage control, or, at the very least, that there was something more to the story," Daphne easily countered his objection, much to Harry's annoyance.

He scowled, not at her but at his irritation with this whole situation. "Fine," he bit out petulantly, still not pleased with ceding to Daphne's well reasoned arguments. "Then what is the play? You two didn't just scheme for this result."

"No, we did not," Daphne gave an enigmatic smile, "but Natalia might be under oath to aid her family over you, and I won't be explaining it in her presence." There was no malice in her voice toward Natalia, no rancor either. That was just how things were.

Harry nodded his assent and saw Natalia wasn't upset or offended by it. She had reached out and rubbed Daphne's shoulder. Harry quickly checked the time and realized the morning was slipping away and he'd need to be getting on with his day shortly.

Though he was frustrated, it had been a nice night with Natalia, her presence calming him after Dumbledore's actions in the Great Hall. It was nothing his spell workout wouldn't get out of his system.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

If there was one thing beyond getting out his frustration and improving his capabilities with his wand that the constant spellwork provided, was that it allowed him to have time alone just to think. It allowed his mind to go on autopilot while the rest of his brain functions were set to just wander and think things over, like his morning with Natalia and Daphne.

There was a wildcard at play here, one he wasn't sure of. What was Daphne up to? She'd been colluding with Natalia for quite a while and to a level he hadn't suspected previously. Now, she had even been spending time with Fleur?

What was her angle? What was she up to?

Harry had also found out more about Hermione. What Patrice had found out was correct. Someone had bankrolled them. They were far better off financially, having sold their practice in England and bought another in America. That they had a perfectly seamless transfer and had Hermione living at home with them, instead of being gone for most of the year.

Hermione too was well settled, enjoying a school that didn't care about her blood status and was in a program with a curriculum specialized for muggleborns, teaching both muggle and magical subjects simultaneously, allowing her to pursue both worlds.

They had exchanged a letter each. Harry had apologized for reacting as he had done, he had apologized for hiding himself away and not remaining friends, for not clearing the air between them. Harry had written his letter first and Horace arranged its discreet delivery, by the potions professor. Harry had received a reply already.

Hermione had explained someone had approached her parents and _thoroughly_ educated them on what happened in the last Blood War. Specifically on how almost all muggleborns had vacated the country. There was an explanation of why being best friends with the man that was going to always be the target of attacks, ranging from public ridicule to outright assassination, and her being a muggleborn would make her the softer target, now, and for the rest of her life.

That she had already been almost killed by a troll, involved in an altercation that led to the death of a professor, petrified by luck, instead of instant death, and almost having her soul sucked out by dementors, not to mention playing with time. Hermione had been forced to confess this all and her parents had forbidden her from remaining friends with Harry while his life was endangered, or until she reached the age of majority. In her sole letter, she had asked him not to write. Hermione had made a deal with her parents, she would avoid him and they would allow her to stay in the magical world, and would honour it, even if she wished otherwise.

It had not been an easy letter to read. He had been hasty in turning from her. While she had faults, there was one thing that he could have counted on, she wouldn't have split loyalties. Hermione was his friend from the troll incident on. While he had been cross with her at times, they were normal bumps in a friendship or times when she had done something she believed to be to his benefit, like the Firebolt and McGonagall incident. She had risked her life for his godfather and even if she had thought he had put his name in, she wouldn't have blabbed his secrets and turned her back on him.

But that was the Hermione of the past tense. Not the one that would have to choose to give up her parents if she would be friends with him now. It would sure be nice to have her perspective on things, on Daphne, on Natalia, on Fleur.

Harry sighed, it was time to chat with Daphne again and see if he could make sense of anything.

"Hey," Harry said as he walked into the study again, Daphne perched in her usual chair reading.

She looked up, "Hey," she shut her book, "done with your training?" she queried politely.

"Yeah, you're taking a break now or you're going to read for a bit longer?" There were some days where she was too engrossed in her work to chat but often, when she was down here, they did spend a bit of time just talking, from the inane to talks like the one they were about to have.

"I'm done for now. And, we should talk." Daphne calmly said as she rearranged herself to be sitting across from him, Harry went and joined her by the fireplace, instead of sitting behind the desk. The two arm chairs were more comfortable to just sit and read at.

"Natalia doesn't know, nor would the Pavlov family, about the virginity ritual. If, and I don't see why it wouldn't, given how every other ritual you have done has worked as it should, and doing that before the contract, will flip her to our side, it will make her beholden to _you_, not her family."

It was strange how the two of them were just sitting by the fire talking about rituals and sex as if it wasn't a big deal. Harry sat in his chair and considered her words before he began voicing them out loud.

"If I understand it correctly, the ritual will marry Natalia and I, magically making her _mine_," the possessive way he said the world sent a pleasant thrum through his body. Harry tapped his fingers on the arm rest, "You suspect they have her under oath to always work for the Pavlov family first and foremost?" He queried with a tilt of his head.

"Yes. If their play is public pressure, then Natalia can't be forced to swear it was you and she could do a joint interview with you," she was smirking now.

"It sounds like a good plan. Mind if we run it by Horace, Cyrus and Patrice first?" Harry questioned, not doubting she would be fine with that.

"Father already knows, I updated him last night, when I knew you were meeting with Ivan and Natalia," Daphne informed him. "I expect he will have updated the other two and we'll hear their thoughts on it shortly.

Harry nodded, "Alright, was there something else you wanted to...talk about?" The way she had said that she had wanted to talk earlier made him think that definitely was.

Daphne shifted forward, lifting herself off the cushion and sliding her bum backwards before leaning towards Harry. "My Father has been wanting to do this for some time, however, I have held him off as _I _wanted to be the one to do this," her eyes matched her solemn tone, her face hard, as if carved out of stone.

Harry sensed this morning, while Natalia and Daphne were talking, that there was more going on that he wasn't aware of. It had been a part of what had set him off and left him feeling uncomfortable.

"Father has been a stalwart ally since knowing you, even before you were in contact, he had been seeking ways to thwart the Malfoy family, as having a future Greengrass beholden to them was less than ideal," Harry schooled his features and stared at her, he wasn't sure where this was going but there was certainly strong build up to whatever she wanted.

"I have, since we began associating, been working towards your betterment." Harry gave her a skeptical look and she amended her statement, "Our benefit."

"You know I have been talking with Natalia for some time now, you are aware I have spent time with Fleur, however, you wouldn't know I have been trying to spend time with Fleur for a long time," she closed her eyes for a second and straightened her clothes.

"I've been working to set up an environment where both Natalia and Fleur will be wife along with myself." Daphne spoke slowly and without inflection. "Natalia, in truth, wasn't hard to convince. She had expected worse fates, and I really think she loves you, or is very close to it."

Harry was sure there was some surprise showing on his face, if he was hearing this right, Daphne had been trying to set him up with two other girls and stake a claim herself. In fact, this might be a blatant propositioning.

"Fleur though…Fleur has been..._difficult_. It wasn't until you informed her that you would not solely marry her that she would do more than politely tolerate my presence, humoring my attempts, as we are both allies of yours," there was some chagrin to her words, a quiet undertone that was almost missed if Harry hadn't been looking and listening closely.

"But, recently, she has been willing to spend time talking with me…" Her eyes lit up and she adopted a posture that practically screamed 'I know something that you don't'. "Did you know she went on a date recently?"

Harry grit his teeth together, trying to keep his visible and immediate reaction to that statement. His blood was burning in his veins though, anger coursing through his arteries as his heart rate rose with his frustration and jealousy. "No, I hadn't heard that," Harry tried to respond casually.

Daphne either saw right through it or knew enough to be aware of how he responded, her lips had tugged into a smirk. "Don't worry, Harry, you've nothing to worry about," she said in a patronizing manner. Harry felt she would've pat him on the cheek if she was but in arms reach of him; he didn't enjoy it but kept silent, not rising to her teasing taunt.

"She went to Hogsmeade with Ron Weasley's eldest brother. You know him, don't you? The accomplished Cursebreaker and roguishly handsome former Head Boy, William Weasley." Daphne paused for a second, she enjoyed riling him up, getting him off balance.

Harry mentally worked to keep his breathing slow, calm and deliberate, breathing nasally, his chest cavity expanding and contracting as he wished it, no further, no more. He was sure his eyes were burning as his fucking traitorous mind supplied him with all the ways _Bill _had hit on Fleur, how he had lusted after her and how he may have get an advantage by consoling a distraught Fleur. His fingers were heavily depressed into the armchair and he was staring straight at Daphne.

"I _happened_ upon them and _discreetly_ watched as William put on his best front. He was charming and had ample stories that were impressive. Why, if I wasn't pursuing you, '_arry_, he'd be quite the catch. Tall, strong, both physically and magically, and with an impressive life so far. A young man who has made something of himself, coming from meager means and already amassing himself a tidy sum."

By this point, Harry was well within control, he was staring at her flatly and waiting for her to get to the point of things. Her little game wasn't going to yield any more results. He was feeling distinctly unimpressed with this tactic and if she was hoping to woo him, this wasn't the right method of doing so.

"I was going to try and keep her from making a mistake; I had planned to interrupt things if it looked like he was taking advantage of her but I soon found it wasn't necessary," she gave him a slight smile now, one that radiated warmth and soothing as she shifted to lean to the right in the chair.

"The first time I thought it was just shock or surprise, like she hadn't expected him to be so forward but as I thought about it, that just wasn't right. A young woman like Fleur would be used to casual contact like that," she shook her head. "No, it wasn't that at all. The second time William brushed his hand up against hers, Fleur definitely pulled away after a brief moment of contact. After the third attempt it ended, Fleur pulled back within herself and their conversation became stilted. I turned my attention from them, I had seen enough and knew what was going to be happening."

With her tale finished, a short companionable silence had followed. Harry asked the question burning on his lips, "What was the point of telling me that?" Was it just to rile him up and annoy him? It certainly made it clear he wasn't over Fleur and demonstrated the thought of another man having her made him want to burn the world down around him, made him want to crush, destroy and desecrate anyone willing to try and take what he wished was his.

"Fleur isn't over you. She wants to be with you still and when I found her silently crying on her way back to the Beauxbatons carriage, I was able to finally make some headway with her," Daphne informed him bluntly. "I won't betray what she told me, but we had a good talk and you should speak with her. It might be a bit messy, she's still wroth with you, but if you want her by your side, and Merlin only knows how long you moped for her, you'll do just that."

Harry frowned, he wondered if it was as simple as Daphne had suggested. He considered the hint of Patrice and the words of his wife.

"But that all brings things back to my original point," she turned the attention back to herself. "I've looked out for you, I've done much, when you have asked and also when not, and been nothing but loyal."

Harry nodded, she had taken a lot of time to help his cause. Daphne was even acting like his personal assistant these days, with her ease of access to go between herself and Cyrus, plus her assistance with mail and rituals, amongst many other things.

"You know about the contract and that we can amend it so _we_ can fulfill it, instead of our children, or our children's children." That was always something that the Greengrass side didn't like to acknowledge. If Harry didn't fulfill it, somewhere down the line, a Black Heir and Greengrass daughter would match the age tolerances and have to marry, but that wasn't a guarantee in the next generation.

"I know you find me attractive and I'd like to formalize our relationship one way or another. You already know two foreign marriages hurt your standing _here_. Just like you know cementing a Greengrass-Black-Potter alliance creates a strong triumvirate. The Black name still has power and wealth, the Potter name respect and strength, and my family, business acumen and a bevy of associates that stand with us," her words were measured and the entire vibe of her sitting there, across from him, felt more like a business presentation than anything else.

"You are attractive Daphne, incredibly so," that was more of an understatement than anything. She was widely considered to be the best looking student at Hogwarts. "You, and your family, have been loyal and beyond helpful. We get on well and...but...is that...enough?" Harry really struggled with how to say that, butchering it in the process. But it just felt strange. Natalia and he had been attracted to one another and dated. Fleur had flirted with him relentlessly and they eventually acted on their mutual attraction.

But Daphne and he? They'd danced around each other a little…but there hadn't really been anything that was truly romantic between them. It had been awkward; would they shake hands if he agreed to date her after this?

"That wasn't quite all I was going to say, Harry." Daphne said, her voice tight, her face pinched. "If we do this, if you agree to amend the contract, then I want to be your first."

Harry's eyes nearly bulged out and his surprise covered the ironically humorous thought that he had wondered, earlier, if this was leading to a blatant propositioning.

"Wh-why's that? Why would you want that?" Harry stumbled to get his thoughts coherent, his eyes dipping down her blouse.

"I'm sure you have some idea, Harry," she rolled her eyes at him. "Your magic is reaching its peak for instability. You're _powerful_ and giving me something of value, me giving you something of value, is symbolic. It shows _intent_, intent that you are choosing me over them. That there is more to _us_ than chemistry, as friends, and both of us being attractive."

Harry's mouth was slightly parted, whether that was from the mental images of the girl before him being intimate with him, or from the audacity of her words, he wasn't sure, nor did he care.

"I'm not sure what you've read, what Salazar has taught you, but I know what I've read. And he believes that our actions and magic are intrinsically linked. That what we do becomes a part of who we are; that our mind instructs our body, that our mind wills magic, and that the three, mind, body and magic, are kept in harmony," she looked at him in an unimpressed manner.

Harry ignored that, she wasn't pleased when he played dumb there, while he knew full well why she wanted that, and asked the question he was going to use to deflect her atention while he thought on it more. "I know that _I _don't have to be a virgin to do the Virginity Ritual with Natalia, but wouldn't it be more effective that way? Or if I did the other one with Fleur, assuming she'd have me?" The last part he muttered but assumed Daphne would have heard it.

She scoffed immediately. "If the ritual called for that, or if it modified it in some way, Salazar would have detailed it. I don't, for a single second, believe otherwise and neither do you," her eyebrows were raised and her arms crossed just underneath her bust. "Plus, it might be better for you to _practice_ first, so you can keep focused on not mucking up the ritual."

Harry put his arms up in a show of surrender. "I know I've never given you guys a straight answer and I should, _will_, soon," he really had to, if Apolline's assumption was to be believed.

"I know I might not be quite up to the beauty standards of a Veela," she referencing Fleur, "and I don't have a foreign accent, '_arry_. Nor can I, at present, match her skill with a wand or outstanding grades." There was nothing spiteful in her words, just honest reflection as she highlighted attributes Fleur brought to the table.

"The Greengrass family can't match the prestige of what the Delacours can. We don't have the dangerous reputation of the Pavlov family and I'm not the forbidden fruit, one that can enrapture you with graceful and practiced body movements." Daphne pivoted to the Pavlov family and Natalia. Now he could feel the build up, that she'd said all this for the purpose of whatever was coming next.

"But that doesn't mean we can't be beneficial. Already you know the value of our stewardship. You've been here for four years and know there is no one prettier than I within this castle," she stood up now and adjusted her clothes, making herself the picture of perfection.

Daphne took a step towards him and leaned down to be eye level with him as her hand fished into the bag that was now just to her left. Suspiciously, he had a prime view at her cleavage, not that she was dressed in a way that he could really see all that much.

She stood up and readjusted her robes again, closing them up, hiding her chest from view. "Think about it, Harry, and give me your answer," she turned on the spot and took a half step away before she abruptly stopped. Her feet stayed planted forward but her body turned around to look at him, giving him a view of her body profile.

"Oh," She said, though, to Harry, she didn't appear to be genuinely surprised, "you might want this." Daphne turned on her heel and beelined straight towards Harry, a predatory glint in her eyes. As she got to him, she bent down, levelling herself with him and she pushed the bag into his lap.

But, her body didn't stop descending when he felt her place the bag in on his thighs.

Before Harry grasped what she was doing, Daphne's moist lips were on his, kissing him hard and heavy. Her soft lips massaging his unresponsive ones, her smell invading his nostrils and, before he could engage his lips, she broke it off. The beautiful brunette quickly stood up and retreated backwards two steps, out of Harry's reach.

She looked quite pleased with herself as she stared down at him, having caught him off guard with her kiss. "And Harry, don't forget I have more than my looks, I can be damn useful." As the words left her mouth she made a brisk exit out of the room.

Harry stared after her, watching her leave the room, her hypnotic hips swaying as she left.

He opened the bag and found a note at the top.

_Harry,_

_Don't worry, I already removed the __**taint**_ _from it. Thought you'd like to see it for yourself. The Runic Room is rather awe inspiring, it's the kind of place where a gal might accept a proposal for her hand in marriage._

_Think about it, would you?_

_Yours, if you want me to be,  
Daphne Greengrass_

He frowned at the paper and then put his hand in the bag, wanting to see what was in there. He felt his fingers grip cool metal and pulled out the lightweight item. He was initially puzzled, wondering what this was. It looked like an ornate headpiece. An old fashioned tiara?

His fingers brushed along its surface and found an inscription: _'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure'._


	42. Minutes Are Seconds, Seconds Are Minutes

Tonight hadn't felt like just another potions lesson. Harry knew he'd been distant and introspective. It wasn't like he didn't have anything on his mind, with Daphne casually dropping lost legendary items that _just so_ happened to have been a Horcrux. There was no story, no bragging, nothing. She'd put herself out there and only wanted to marry him and fulfill the contract.

"Maybe that's enough for tonight," Horace called out gently, a grimace on his face as his nose wrinkled at the smell of the potion.

Harry sighed. He'd made a careless mistake because his attention wasn't on brewing, as it should've been. "Right, it's probably a good idea." He scowled at his poor attempt and then vanished the contents.

"Leave it, I'll clean it up, my boy," Slughorn's face softened as he looked at the younger man. "Would you stay for a drink?" He asked hopefully and gestured toward the room's exit that went back towards the interior of the home.

Harry debated it for a moment. What he really felt like right now was someone delivering a coup de grâce. It wasn't that he wanted to be put out of his misery so much as he wanted deliverance and guidance with his latest consternations. Oddly enough, Horace might be the only one who could be objective. Patrice's and Cyrus' daughters were in the middle of it and he didn't trust Sirius and Remus with these kinds of things.

"Sure," he replied after a few seconds, "Thanks."

Horace ushered him back into the room as he always did when they were going to talk. Harry sank into the familiar chair and Horace already had a butterbeer pouring itself. Harry thanked him and wandlessly levitated it to himself. He tipped the cup, with his magic, and allowed the liquid to fall into it. He had discovered, so far, that this was manageable, but getting the liquid to pour into his mouth like a water fountain, which had been his intent from the start, was, well, in a word, _difficult_. It would require copious amounts of practice, in private, where people wouldn't see his messy mistakes.

"What's on your mind, Harry, my boy. You've been thoroughly distracted tonight, staring off and, at times, unresponsive." It was left unsaid how out of character it was for Harry to be so unattentive at these lessons.

"A lot... Too much..." Harry shook his head and gripped his mug with both hands, the warmth of it feeling reassuring to him. "Want to hear it all or talk about things one at a time?"

Horace chuckled good naturedly. "Why don't you get it all out. We can work through it, one at a time. That is, if you'd like."

Harry nodded and sat up, resting the butterbeer on one of the arm rests, still held comfortably in his hand. He ran his hand back through his hair and rubbed down his neck, wondering where he should start.

"Well, there's a lot. You know about what Dumbledore said and I can't fail to notice that he admitted Riddle did more than seven sets of seven rituals. He walked the same path as me and just _forgot_ that he shouldn't do an extra one?!" Riddle was smart, a Head Boy and incredibly capable. He wouldn't just make that mistake easily.

"Then, like, why the bloody hell was he so hellbent on killing me? Why _specifically_ me? Not my mother, not my father. He didn't care about killing them, not truly. He swatted my father away, quickly dispatching him as though he was just a pebble on his road to his real target, _me._" Harry had a head of steam built up and kept chugging along, letting the words and worries come out of his mouth.

"My mum, she was _offered_ her life. She just had to step aside, he said. Just sacrifice your son and you live. But why?! He stood against muggleborns, he was inside an enemy's home and normally made their endings gruesome. He didn't just offer to let a muggleborn live, he probably wouldn't have even killed my father if he'd been outside and hadn't arrived in time to get in the way." His free hand was flinched and he could feel his magic bubbling within him, responding to his anger.

"I've thought on that, over and over and over again! And nothing! It doesn't make any sense!" Harry dropped his head back heavily onto the comfortable backing of the chair, staring up at the ceiling. It wasn't great for him to get so worked up, his magic was _responsive_. He'd noticed it had been swirling and had begun to cause a physical response around him.

He let out a breath and shut his eyes. Slughorn had stayed quiet through all this, so far, just letting him vent. He brought his chin back down and moved onto the next topic. "Daphne just got another horcrux dealt with but, if he did seven, then that's only the third one. We have four to go and no leads on what they could be."

"Right, with that, Daphne basically told me what Patrice and Apolline were hinting at, that Fleur still wants to be with me but neither of us have really talked, so I don't exactly _know_ that. But, like, I'd seen it in the hall. She had the same look that I did when our eyes met," he brought his eyes up to Horace's, "She left the hall then, you know. She didn't like being in my presence, much like how I don't like to be near her right now," he shook his head and stared past the man, his eyes shut and he let out a breath, long and slow, "It hurts too much," Harry said lowly, "It hurts to be reminded of what we had, what we could be…"

It wasn't the time to go down that mole hole, Fleur was just one difficulty. He brought the butterbeer up from the armrest and gulped down some, hoping the magical drink would warm him. "Then there is Natalia. Her family is still looking for leverage in the negotiations, trying to take advantage of anything that can improve their position. Getting Natalia to do their bidding."

He brought the drink up and sipped at it again as he considered what words to use to relate how he felt about the Pavlov family.

"I'm not stupid and naive about them. They aren't a good family to associate with. But that's exactly the kind of thing that I need right now. They took out Mcnair with brutal efficiency. If I can get that working for us, then we can actually win. Cause, you're right. I can't just run around and assassinate everyone. I can't fight this war on my own." The last admission felt like an anchor being dropped off without a chain.

"Then, what's more, is that all of my allies are trying to match me to their daughters, Fleur, Daphne, Natalia. I'm just glad you don't have any granddaughters or there'd be a love pentagon going on for me." Harry took a deep breath in, the words had come out that he needed a breath or two to put the proper level of oxygen back into his system.

"My father's best friends are siding with Dumbledore and I know the tutoring Flitwick and McGonagall are giving me is so that he can track my magical progress. And, like, I don't even know anything about my own damn family. People say the Potters are well respected and 'you're a Potter' but I don't even know what it means."

Sensing Harry was done, Horace took a final sip of his drink and then began to respond. "Well, your grandfather, Charlus, would have been the ideal candidate to teach you what it means to be a Potter. Though, I must admit, he would not be keen on me advising you. Frankly, aside from Patrice, he wouldn't appreciate the rest of us," he chuckled and, apparently, had no issues admitting it.

"Charlus was a man of intense conviction. He had no qualms ripping into someone for their lack of integrity. He'd stand up and get in peoples faces, letting them know _exactly_ how he felt about them," he chuckled and had a nostalgic grin on his face. "Why, this one time, he stood up in front of the whole Wizengamot, after they had spent an hour debating a bill House Nott introduced and he cut through all the rhetoric and gutted the bill in a single speech."

He had to place his drink down as his arms were becoming too animated to continue holding it. "He stood up and said, '_Enough of the sodding suppositions! Nott, the wanker that he is, is trying to buy the moderates with a slight decrease in the Diagon Tax. He's got two departments on board, by creating four more positions for them to lord over, and the real reason he's passed this bill is try to remove one of the few rights Muggleborns actually have. If that wasn't enough reason to vote against, look at the hard evidence you now have a copy of'."_

Slughorn chuckled in memory, after trying to reenact the speech, "He was so fed up with the Wizengamot, refusing to act on Grindelwald, people acting for their greed and prejudice and almost nobody standing up to them. Nott had been one of the most active houses, politically. Constantly trying to chip away at the rights of muggleborn, half bloods, creatures and witches. All the while, adding protections to purebloods and refusing to consider even giving supplies to aid against Grindelwald."

Harry heard the words and cherished them, learning more about family was always delightful. He'd been so busy with his own studies he hadn't taken the time to see what he could find about his own family.

"But for all of Charlus' moral uprightness, he was never one to be predicted. He fell in love with Dorea, a gorgeous young woman from a family that he never should have considered marrying into. Yet, somehow, it worked out and he brought Arcturus toward being a moderate," he shook his head and glanced off, away from Harry before returning to the present conversation.

"He stood up to his own allies, berating them when he thought they'd strayed down the wrong path. He was a passionate friend and loyal ally. If the man was but twenty years younger the last war wouldn't have gone the way it did. With just one speech, he destroyed Nott's political influence. Disparaging them for buying a job for his son, pointing out how ridiculous it was for making a law that muggleborns couldn't keep their wands when they were not in Hogwarts, and buying votes."

Harry frowned and looked at Slughorn skeptically, "He pointed out the regular dealings, showing what everyone knows is already happening and it hurt them that badly?" He wanted to hear more about that as it sounded like an exaggeration to Harry. While he might appreciate a bit of whitewashing of his grandfather, he did want to hear the truth of the man as well.

"No, it wasn't merely the speech. It was the planning, the discovering of exactly who had been bribed, for how much and the specific part they were to play. Those were the masterstrokes," Slughorn chuckled amusedly, "His speech _coincided _with the evidence being presented in a written fashion. It was as devastating as it was shocking. Nott and all his allies were exposed and shamed. Everyone _knew_ it went on but there was never tangible proof," he paused and looked at Harry, his eye brow rising in challenge, wanting Harry to finish the explanation.

"Presented with tangible proof of corruption, something they cannot explicitly approve of, even if they tacitly agree not to be zealous in ferreting it out normally, the Wizengamot would have to act and make an example of House Nott," Harry explained, the single piece of information had been missing that led to the conclusion.

"I would think, a prudent man like him, and his ancestors before him, would have journals or something to prepare a new Head of House in the circumstance that an heir was orphaned early in life, for situations exactly like yours," Horace mused aloud. "Have you looked into it?"

Harry felt himself grimace, he knew he should have searched more but he had been so busy and had so much on his mind all the time that it hadn't really been a priority. "I haven't really looked…" Harry said in a small voice, ashamed to admit it.

"It's understandable, my boy. Chin up," Slughorn correctly was able to assess how Harry felt about that, "You're fourteen, and, as I had said, Charlus and, dare I say, James should both be around to advise and parent you. You're fourteen, making decisions and dealing with things that most families don't even contemplate over generations."

Harry didn't feel convinced and wasn't putting in any effort in masking how he felt about things when he was with Horace, there was no need.

"Just think about Krum. An absolute phenom at quidditch. A hero for quidditch fans and a teenage celebrity. But, do you compare him to you? You ask any wizard across the world and they will have heard of you, but not Krum. And while that may have faded over time, if it had just been a sole event, but it hadn't."

Harry tilted his head, trying to figure out exactly where he was going with this.

"You have had an entire generation growing up reading romanticized tales found in the Harry Potter books series. Then, as a First Year, you're a standout quidditch player, you win special awards from Albus Dumbledore and are widely praised by him. This year, with the tournament and your academic success, you're an even brighter star for people to follow."

Harry almost rolled his eyes. Horace had been harping on about these things for some time now. "I get that I'm _literally_ the hottest thing right now, the biggest draw. I get that I'm dealing with things that most people my age never even conceive of," his neck craned forward and he shook his head, his upper torso following.

"But that doesn't matter. That is what I _have_ to do. I just, I just…I just find it _so _tiring. All this politicking, all this work of _playing _a part, of discerning deceptions and duplicitousness. Just because they have vowed to not betray me and to support me, doesn't mean they can't manipulate things to their own benefit. I mean, I don't even know who convinced Hermione and her family to move to the US." His frustration built up as he spoke and he scowled as he brought his mug up for another drink.

"Yes," Slughorn replied slowly, "that has been quite...vexing."

"Nothing more has been discovered?" He asked the man that had been following that up, using his vast network of contacts.

"Not much has changed, the top considerations are still Pavlov and Greengrass with a slimmer possibility of it being the Delacours or Albus himself. But, I believe it was someone that considers you an ally, even if it is a nominal one at that. Their exit was too clean and tidy; it was too beneficial for their family for it to be anything else," he mused a little bit irritably, not having been able to ferret out the truth as of yet.

"Pavlov's might have done it to remove a possible romantic interest, always being able to claim later it was for 'protection'," Harry began to list aloud what they had come to suspect about each of the possible parties that may have pulled it off. "Delacour's being much the same, remove Hermione and allow Fleur a clean opportunity to ingratiate herself with me and cement close ties to their family, the only supportive faction."

Horace hummed aloud, "Cyrus would have the contacts for it and Daphne would be most aware of how close you two were, but not anyone could have found out you only kept two close friends…"

Harry could see how it bothered the man to not know this information and he expected Horace would continue looking into it. But, right now, Harry wanted to get back to more of what was an issue right now. "So basically what you've found out is that, more than likely, I'm left with believing that one of the three families that want me to marry their daughter will go to major financial lengths to manipulate me."

It was obvious that the Pavlov family had been and was currently willing to manipulate things to achieve their goal, however, there was pretty limited information that pointed towards them being a leading candidate for the 'Hermione situation'. Their family had very little connection to the colonies. Whereas, the Delacours were in the best position to have pulled this off, while the Greengrass family would make the most sense for motive. They could have neatly slid Hermione out of the picture and inserted Daphne. A more charming, beautiful and connected heiress who was also smart and brainy like Hermione.

Horace had just emptied his drink, knocking back the last bit of it and he levitated the glass out of the way, appearing to be done drinking for the moment. "Harry," Slughorn began but then he lost his steam and heaved out a long sigh.

Harry frowned as he watched. Horace was an articulate individual, he was well spoken and considered his words before opening his mouth…That he had done so now was...odd.

"I've counseled you since we first spoke of your mother Lily," He closed his eyes for a couple seconds after letting her name part from his lips. He opened his eyes again and they glistened, "And, my boy, I-" he paused again, his hand coming to his face and he wiped his eyes.

Harry could feel some tension rise from within him, he had no idea what Slughorn was getting emotional about and it made him feel ill at ease. He sat upright in the chair, and carefully guarded himself.

"Advising isn't easy and straightforward, my boy," Horace began softly, "there is more than one way to climb a mountain, each with their benefits and detriments. You can walk, like a muggle, and gain an understanding of how difficult it is to do physically. You can take a broom and fly up, a fast approach where you'd learn more about flying in the wind and at variable altitudes. If you didn't want to do that, then learning to apparate by line of sight would be a good challenge and you could ascend that way, pushing yourself magically, mentally." He gave a faint smile.

"But if asked what is the best way to climb the mountain I could advise arbitrarily, I could choose one I think would benefit you in the short term, the long term or even give combinations of them." Harry nodded understanding the point he was getting across, though his eyes were slightly narrowed as he was considering where this was leading to.

"I once told you that you should marry five women to secure all your lines," he chuckled in amusement, "I did that because I knew you were only open to one," he told Harry in a matter-of-fact tone.

Harry looked at him blankly, taking a moment to consider that. "You thought I would only want one and wished to push me to two or three?" He questioned neutrally, not giving away his thoughts about that.

Slughorn nodded, "I'd hoped it would open you up to considering two or three. There would always be the option of adding more or assisting another House in continuing their line later," Horace informed him. "If I wanted to advise you as I think Charlus would have, I'd tell you to marry Fleur and to _never_ entertain the idea of another woman in your life. Though I didn't know him well, I believe your father would tell you the same too, for what it's worth."

"Then why would you push me that way?" Harry asked with furrowed eyebrows.

Horace shook off the question and kept going, "Arcturus though, he would have you married to Daphne and pushed towards Susan Bones. Possibly even looking into adding Hannah Abbot, their friend, if you had enough pull to get that done." Only one corner of his mouth moved as his check and eye, on that side, tried to meet each other.

"Your mother, however…I _think_," and he really emphasized the word, the register of his voice lowering for the single word, "I think that she would have had you go for Natalia first, and then tried to have you accept more as necessary."

Horace tilted his head and his eyes looked toward the ceiling for a moment as he debated that. "Yes, I think she would have wanted you to be pragmatic and, most importantly, she would have wanted you to survive," he added softly, almost wistfully.

"Why would my mother have pushed me for the Pavlov's first?" Harry asked quietly, he wasn't sure how he felt about these admissions. Much like the advice, he felt conflicted by it.

"She would've seen their value, as you have. Macnair wasn't some nobody. He was a well known and much hated man. I doubt the Pavlov's were the first to go for him; they were, however, the first to succeed. And doing so, as quietly as they did?" He shook his head and let his thought trail off, they both understood.

"Is it comparable to my mother and her feelings about the Potter family, or, more specifically, my father, before they loved each other?" Harry asked, trying to discern more about why Slughorn thought his mother would advise such.

"Yes," Slughorn began to answer, his eyes sparkling with amusement, "and no. Lily liked the Potter family but not their son. You like Natalia but not her family," he chuckled at the irony there.

"But the crux of the matter is, men will need to disappear and you can't be the one to always do it. While Lily would have been displeased by the taste that decision leaves in your mouth, she would _always,_ and I do mean _always_ put the survival of her family before anything else," Slughorn's eyes had darkened and his face was grim. "She was willing to marry a man she had extreme distaste for, if it protected her family and wouldn't drive her to kill herself."

Harry's lips pressed into a thin line and his fingers pressed into the chair. That was the part of what had always bothered him, something to bury deep down and never speak or say it. It was well and good that things had grown between his parents, into a loving marriage, but the contract had her setup to birth heirs, give her a career and protection for her family.

"So what are you saying with all this?" Harry asked, disliking the quiet, his hands were relaxed and he had calmed himself enough to use magic to float the mug to his face, tipping it and letting the final bit of liquid pour into his mouth. Harry wiped his mouth with his sleeve, his pouring hadn't been as neat as he would like, some had sploshed onto his upper lip.

"Well, let me ask you this. Would you wish for me to advise you to be a Potter? To marry Fleur and damn any consequences it may bring? Would you have me advise you as a Black, marry for advantage to the family and damn love? Should I try and maximize your financial outlook or push for a political hegemony?" Horace's voice was demanding, not in an overbearing way though. He was insistent that Harry give him an answer, for him to choose a direction.

"Harry, my boy, I ask what you want? For I, like Lily, wish for you to survive, first and foremost. But, as I grew to love Lily as if she was my own daughter, I have grown in my affection for you." He wiped at his eyes and his still shining eyes locked with Harry's. "I ask you, for what else am I to do? You have the pragmatism of Lily, the makings of another fine Potter and a ruthless cunning Arcturus would be proud of."

Harry felt calm, detached and warm all at the same time. He felt at peace with Horace's words, that the man was trying to advise him loyally, that he was trustworthy, his most ardent supporter even. Detached because how did you respond to something like this? Emotions were not something he was adept at. Warm though, he didn't see Horace as a father figure, not even an uncle. A mentor, a close family friend that had become a part of the family, as close as their own blood, but not as a parent. In some ways, that made it all the more special. He was a man that was fulfilling the role of a godparent and mentor all at once.

"_Thank you_," he said after a moment in a way that was as heartfelt as he could make it. He hoped Slughorn could read more into his response than his short reply.

Horace gave him a nod, his head bobbing up and down two more times than was necessary. "At first I saw you as someone to collect, to foster a relationship with and use it to further my own ambitions," he admitted, his eyes locked on Harry's, "_but_, I could never have done that to Lily's child. I fooled myself, thinking I could remain detached," he shook his head and looked as though he was far, far away from here.

"I spent _years_...years cultivating a network. I built up vast stores of favors and connections… But during Tom's rise...they were worthless. I couldn't protect Lily, the one thing I wanted _most_. Everything I had built up, years of politicking and savvy. My expensive 'one of a kind' drinks turned to vinegar in my mouth, the best food from the most exclusive places turned to ash on my tongue. Even the gold felt like it was weighing me down like a lead anchor."

Harry stayed silent and let the elder man get this weight off his shoulders, leaning forward slightly as he took in it all.

"I let it all rot, I retreated from the public and tried to find something that would replace it. But all I had been able to accomplish was have a quiet retirement and feel ashamed of my failure. My influence waned, my investments were sold off and I wallowed, searching for purpose," his head had been dropped into his hands but now it rose, the acidulous look being shed.

"But now I've found it. You, my boy, are it. You are the way where lead becomes gold again, that I can enjoy wine and savor food. You are the reason I can politick and network again. You have given me purpose once more." There was a sense of conviction to him now, that he was laying himself bare and showing Harry his depth.

"You ask me how to advise you and I tell you, how do you want me to advise you? You tell me what you want and I'll do my best to make it happen."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry walked down the halls and felt he was getting there entirely too slowly and way too fast at the same time. Seconds were becoming minutes and minutes were becoming seconds. Somehow, those conflicting things were true at the same time, even though they could not be. Every step was as long as five but every hallway ten times longer than normal.

His heart was beating irregularly fast in his chest and his breathing was slightly quickened. The palms of his hands were clammy and he was both dreading and excited at the prospect of what he was about to do. After no time, or a rather long period of time, he found himself knocking on the door.

He waited and the silence was almost too much to bear. He could hear his pulse and he felt more nervous than when he went after Malfoy. That would have ended in death and discovery or a perfect crime. This though, this was going to be something he was going to have to live with. Harry would be putting himself out there, unless what he had heard went completely the other way, and he could be rejected.

The door opened and Harry could feel his heart quench. Fleur was there, standing in the entry to her room, and wearing shorts that showed a whole lot of thigh and a tight tee shirt that didn't quite touch the top of her shorts. Her eyes were wide and it was clear she didn't expect it to be him.

"'Arry," she breathed out, her voice quiet. Her arms, which had been at her sides, crossed over each other and she hugged them to her torso. Her eyes hardened, "Why are you 'ere, 'arry?"

Harry almost winced at her tone."I'd like to talk, Fleur," he told her, his voice calm and unwavering.

She didn't answer, her cold blue eyes bored into him and her stiff posture didn't sway. "Fine," she said, her eyes flashed with anger as she spoke the words. She didn't let him in and follow after him, she simply turned and briskly walked and sat in a chair, not a loveseat or anywhere where Harry could sit within touching distance.

Harry stepped in, shut the door and went and sat on the loveseat.

Fleur was withdrawn, her face was blank, and she sat silently waiting for Harry to speak. After a few seconds of both of them just looking at each other she lifted both of her eyebrows and her head moved forward slightly as she did so.

"I wanted to tell you Fleur, that I'm not over you and I don't think I ever will be," Harry started things off, his earlier discussion with Slughorn giving him the push to go for what he wanted. As the man pointed out, the worst case scenario leaves him back where he was then, wanting Fleur and not having her. At least if he tries, then he knows it wasn't on him, that it wasn't a lack of effort and vulnerability that lead to them never getting back together.

"You are not with Natalia anymore?" Fleur questioned sharply, a flicker of dull hope flashing in her eyes, her body posture stayed stiff and unyielding.

"No." Harry stated clearly.

Silence stretched between them as Fleur didn't immediately respond and Harry didn't continue to elaborate.

"You want me to share you? With a _Pavlov_?" she spat out, her eyes burning with rage. "Do all men just want to fuck me? Just get me on my back and between my legs? Do you think all Veela are like zis or just ze French ones?" Her accent thickened as her fury grew. She stood up and her hands were at her sides, her hands shaking in anger, though no wand was drawn.

"Really?" Harry answered, standing up as the words fell out of his mouth, "That is what you think of me? That is what you _know _of me?" He knew it was probably just her anger taking hold of her, getting her to say spiteful things to hurt him as bad as his decision had hurt her…But if this was going to go that way he may as well leave. If Fleur was going to react like this then Harry would stand up for himself and it would get ugly. There was no need to let it get to that.

"You think I don't know you talked Daphne into that? That you're trying to get with all _three_ of us? Do you really think I'll just let myself be a _conquest _for you? That I'll just be another girl you can brag about?" Fleur was glaring at him as she took a step toward him, her words overflowing with venom and vitriol.

Harry shook his head, he could feel her magic, the fire surrounding her, and he wasn't going to let it go unchallenged. "Well fuck you then. Go on some more dates with Bill Weasley, why don't you?" He could see the surprise cross her face as it paused her building up of magic and he pushed on with his words, his green eyes flashing with frustration of his own.

"Enjoy popping out tons of little red-headed freckled kids. I'm sure you'll just _love_ Molly, the overbearing woman who _clearly _loved you when we went to visit," he brought her back to how much the Weasley matriarch didn't enjoy Fleur's presence. "I'm sure she'll just _love_ it! I can hear it, just picture it, you show up to a garden party with a nice pretty dress on and she'll compliment you on it, 'Such a lovely dress, it makes you look so _French_'. And we both know she would mean harlot."

"Harlot?" Fleur nearly screeched at him. "You think I'll open my legs for William?" She was _furious_. Yet, her eyes shone with unshed tears as her anger was mixed with heavy emotions that caused her eyes to tear up.

The buildup of magic around her stopped, the heat that was building up to an inferno was snuffed out. "Out," she whispered, her voice soft in volume but hard in resolve. "Get out," she repeated her command through gritted teeth as the first tears leaked from her eyes, her wand in hand now.

Harry didn't draw his wand, he didn't feel any magic around her. She wasn't preparing to attack him; she was giving him a warning of what would happen if he stayed.

Harry shook his head, this wasn't how he wanted things to go. He had wanted to talk to her civilly. He had wanted to explain the depth of his emotions and talk about the rituals, to explain what her mother had talked with him about. He'd wanted to ask if her parents had been hinting at, that she wasn't over him.

But, instead of that, things got heated. She'd taken the first shot at him and he riposted it. Things had escalated quickly and accusations that both of them knew were untrue were thrown around.

Harry shook his head. Trying to fix this now wasn't a good idea. He backed away from the furniture and quickly departed. As soon as he had shut the door behind him he sank down, his back pressed against the door and his bum slid down to the floor. He grabbed his knees and dropped his head onto his forearm.

He breathed in and out, long, slow deliberate breaths. His chest heaved and he felt things crash down around him. His emotions were overwhelming. Picturing Fleur with Bill, laughing at his jokes, eating up his charms, and having her arms around him. Greeting him from behind with a hug and soft kiss on the cheek, like she used to do to him in the Great Hall whenever she found him there eating already and her arm in his as they went for walks around.

He couldn't stomach it; he couldn't let it happen.

Fleur should be _his_. His hands should be the only ones that feel her beautiful breasts. His hands should be the only ones that squeeze her arse. The thoughts and feelings of those memories bubbled to the surface and Harry groaned and tried to bury his head into his arms futilely.

He wanted comfort, someone or something to just be there for him and thought of his trusty companion, the one that he could always rely on. He straightened his right leg, so he could access his pocket, and reached into it, searching for his scaly familiar. His fingers fumbled around and he couldn't find her.

That wasn't possible. While his pockets were enhanced in size he couldn't lose his little dragon in his own pocket. After thoroughly searching it again with his hand he gave up. There was always another option, one he hadn't made much use of, but had been practicing. First though, he brought his leg back and up and rested his head on his arms.

Harry shut his eyes and sought Cuddles, he focused on their connection and tried to see through her eyes. It took less than a second for him to see something his own eyes could not be seeing.

He was in Fleur's bedroom and she was on her bed, in the fetal position sobbing. Harry looked around and found that he, well Cuddles, was perched on her wardrobe. With a powerful flap of his wings, Harry leapt off the wardrobe and landed on her bed.

Harry, Cuddles, lowered his jaw and let out a crooning noise, though it probably came out more as a half screech than anything else.

Fleur started at the noise but the panic fled her eyes as she saw what it was. Her eyes softened and she perked up. "Cuddles?" she questioned what she was seeing but it was rather obvious Cuddles was one of a kind. "What are you doing here?" she questioned further and reached out to grab a hold of the little dragon.

As her fingers got a firm hold of her dark scales a contented sigh escaped her lips. "I've always loved you," she told the little dragon as she brought Cuddles to her face and quickly pecked her lips on her. "You feel just like 'arry."

She closed her eyes and hugged the dragon to her, "You're definitely 'is. 'Arry's magic is all over you, it is all I can feel." she released Cuddles for just a second before smothering her again. "I know Gabrielle adores you. Your magic is so strong, so safe, and so very _protective_; it is as if nothing can 'urt me when I'm with you."

Harry crooned again, puffing out his chest, all the while wondering how acting as a dragon felt so instinctual.

"You can understand me, can't you?" Fleur asked rhetorically," I've always thought you were smarter than a normal dragon. You must be, you are so very special, aren't you?" she ran her fine fingers across his scales and Harry could feel the pleasure that it normally gave Cuddles when he did it. A thrum left his throat and he affectionately pushed into the contact.

"I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you..." Fleur whispered, her tears had stopped by the point but their lines still marred her cheeks. "Without 'arry…" she murmured the addition.

"'Arry..." Fleur whispered his name quietly to herself as she hoisted herself up with the arm not cradling Cuddles. She sat up on the bed, resting her back on the headboard and placed the little dragon in her lap, nestling her between her thighs. Fleur's fingers kept petting Cuddles as she looked down at her lovingly.

"I want 'im still…" she said and Harry forced Cuddles to open her eyes, turn her neck around and look up at the beautiful Beauxbatons champion. "Did you know that?" she asked in a lighthearted teasing manner as she kept petting Harry's familiar.

"'e thought I went on a date with William," she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I'm ruined for other men. 'Arry is so strong, his heart is too pure and his love too overwhelming. I can feel it from you. Did you know that?" she picked up the fire breathing reptile and brought it to her face, her eyes closely examining the Cuddles.

"I cannot stand the touch of other men. Their lust, their perverse desires," she shuddered and brought Cuddles back down to her lap, not stopping running her hands over his scales. "But not from 'arry. It is why Gabby loves him so. She can feel his care and affection for her. Maman can too. 'e doesn't even stare at maman…" she looked lost in wishful thought.

She sighed and Harry, peering through Cuddles slitted yes, thought she looked melancholic and dispirited. "I don't know what is wrong with me," she whispered in frustration. "I love 'arry, I even talked with maman and papa about sharing him but when he came here, when he came to win me back, for what else could it have been, I accused him of things he is not…" The hand that was petting Cuddles left and flipped her hair back. Harry watched as she flipped it over her far shoulder and then began running her fingers through it.

"Am I crazy? Am I too proud? Was it my pride, my inner fire, that made me react so?" she sighed and dropped her hand down to pet Cuddles again. "Maybe I am just crazy. 'Ere I am, clinging onto 'Arry's magic and talking to 'is familiar…" she let out a self-deprecating hollow laugh.

"But should I not be so proud? 'Ave I not worked so 'ard for so long to achieve what I 'ave?" she asked the dragon rhetorically. "I finished NEWT Charms two years early, I am the top scoring student Beauxbatons has seen for many decades, I'm the dueling champion, _not _that it matters versus 'arry." she grumbled the last bit, though she didn't sound upset or jealous as she said it; it was more a good natured gripe than anything.

"I am a Delacour, beautiful, talented, and wealthy. I 'ave everything one could ask for and 'ave either worked 'ard for it or 'ave been born to it. Should that not be enough for 'im? Should your master not be just 'appy with me, _just me_?" Her hand stilled on him and he forced Cuddles to open her eyes to get another look at Fleur. Fleur's one hand was still holding Cuddles and the other was now on heart, a lone tear trickled down her cheek.

"Why can't I be enough Cuddles? Can you tell me? Am I not pretty enough? Does he prefer Natalia's dark hair? Should I have been more physical with him? Less physical?" Her blue eyes stared at the little dragon as tears silently leaked from her eyes.

"'Arry's the only one who has seen me topless. 'E's the only one I've ever let touch me. I wanted 'im too, I wanted to feel his love burn with desire," she used her palm to wipe her right cheek and then her left as she poured out her inner thoughts to a miniature fire breathing dragon.

She sat there and pulled her knees up, inadvertently squeezing the Cuddles between her thighs and stomach but a squawk from Cuddles quickly had her brought up above her knees. Harry used his control of Cuddles to rub her head on Fleur. Sobs racked her body, the tears came hard and heavy now, she was sniffling and had a runny nose.

Harry did his best to give her comfort, but he was rather limited as a dragon. Her body convulsed with her sobs and time lost meaning. How long it went on for Harry had no idea, it was an eternity and over in an instant all at once as his mind unfocused and he did his best to bring comfort to the devastated girl he was with, well, kind of.

After her sobs had slowed, after they had ceased, and after she had composed herself more, having wiped up her tears and removed all traces of them, Fleur had cradled Cuddles to her chest. "Do you know the worst part, Cuddles?" She asked as her chin was on her chest, looking down at Harry's familiar. "The worst part is I wish I 'adn't driven 'arry away; I wish I 'ad grabbed 'im and staked my claim. I wish 'e'd grabbed me, 'eld me, and told me 'e was never leaving me again. That I was 'is and 'e is mine." Tears didn't come now but her tone was still somber.

"But that's not what 'e did, what _I _did," she shut her eyes and exhaled slowly as if she was breathing out her disappointment, "I told 'im 'e was just like other men. That 'e was just _obsédé_ with my beauty, that his goal was to add me to his _trophées_, his _tableau de chasse_," Fleur shook her head as she finished rapidly covering what her earlier words had implied.

"I want 'im back...but, I can't do it. I can't tell 'im that I'll do it, that I'll accept Natalia and Daphne too, if necessary," her voice was barely audible as tears left her eyes again. "I-I just _can't,_" she whispered heartbroken.

Harry had heard enough. He could figure it out now. Patrice had given him the first clue, calling her a veela, and Apolline had led him to the well. Unfortunately, when he went to draw water, talk to Fleur, he fumbled it and couldn't get any water. As Cuddles though, he saw Fleur fill the well with her tears. He knew what was in there now and exactly what she wanted.

It was his talk with Slughorn that had solidified it for him. There were times to be passive, times to sit back and listen but not always. He'd been rather passive. He'd taken the back seat and let someone else drive the conversation while taking in the scenery and scrutinizing the driver. Too seldom had he forced his way into the driver's seat and gone where he had wanted to.

It was time for that. It was time for him to do what he did when he went for Malfoy. He had made his decision to go for Fleur. The gorgeous veela that had stood beside him in battle. The young woman who was as responsible for them making it out of the Forbidden Forest alive as anyone else. He'd never forget that macabre sight.

She had never looked more beautiful to him than she had there, never more deadly. The spells had raced from her wand, lighting the surroundings on fire. She had felled spiders, left and right, and had refused to be overwhelmed, she had stood tall, she'd been a vehement veela.

He'd thought it then and he still thought it now, when he thought back to that moment, the moment he knew Fleur was _so fucking glorious._

Harry couldn't let this moment pass. It was time to act.

He used his control to flap Cuddle's wings and wriggle out of Fleur's grasp and he took off. He flew out oft her reach, flapping her wings to gain height. Harry directed Cuddles out of the room and then did a quick circle to see if Fleur was following. She wasn't.

Cuddles turned towards her and let out a shriek and followed it up with a puff of fire that quickly turned into smoke.

Harry didn't catch whatever Fleur's response was, he could tell she opened her mouth and spoke things but he shrieked again to get her following him. He had Cuddles go toward the exit, stopping to hover, when Fleur was too far behind and ending up at the exit.

Harry left Cuddle's mind and stood up, his body was stiff for sitting so long, his legs protested him demanding they get him to stand upright. Just as his hand finished using the door as leverage to stand up, Fleur opened the door.

For the second time tonight, she was surprised he was there. "'Arry?!" She said half in shock and half bewildered.

"I can't go back like this, not how we parted," he told her sincerely, his voice this with emotion.

"'Arry," Fleur said as she stared at him, her eyes wide and her eyelids blinking more than was natural.

Harry reached out with his hand and grabbed her elbow. He felt her pull away as she gasped at the contact. Harry's fingers held their grip, not that it was tight enough she couldn't have pulled away and not too constricting that it might actually hurt her.

"'Arry," Fleur said for the third straight time, this time though with longing and melancholy.

"I don't want to walk away from you," Harry told her, his green eyes willing her to believe every word that he uttered in this doorway. "If none of this was happening, if I was just a Potter without Riddle trying to get me I'd be the luckiest man alive, marrying you, just you."

Harry's shoulders sagged. "But I'm also a Black and you have to carry on the Delacour line. Life isn't simple and I'll never just work a regular job and go home. Politics is going to plague me and so it can't just be you. We can't just have three children for three lines, not when Riddle is still out there…and, we can't battle his entire force with just a couple of capable wands."

The entire time he spoke he held onto Fleur, wanting her to feel what he was saying, how he truly felt about all of this. His voice was tired of going over this endlessly. His heart wanted absolution and he wanted to be with Fleur again.

"'Arry," she spoke his name for the fourth time, her blue eyes shining and her lips closing again after just the one word.

Harry stepped forward and there was almost no space between them. He let his one hand drop off her elbow and slide down to her hip, his other hand grabbing a hold on her other hip. He pulled her in and brought his lips towards hers, his eyes watching her intently and seeing no sign in them to dissuade his current actions.

Their lips met and it was as if a raging inferno had just begun between them. He could feel a torrent of pent up emotion and desire overwhelm him. It seared through his blood, boiling it and driving his actions. His lips worked in tandem with hers and her hands laid a trail of fire on his body as they roamed and grabbed where they pleased.

Harry's hands weren't idle either. They started on her hips but quickly moved further back on her body and then sought the prize that was just south. As he grabbed and probed her arse with his hands he always marveled at how firm and malleable it was at the same time. No matter how his fingers explored and squeezed, they could never get enough.

Fleur moaned into his mouth, her hands pulled him into her, crushing their bodies to one another. Fleur began to back up and Harry matched her step for step, one of her hands left his body and shut the door, the only way he recognized it was from the sound of the door shutting and the feeling of privacy as the room was now secure again.

Harry kept kissing her, their lips pressing against one another, his hands exploring as low on her thighs as he could get them and all the way up past the top of her head. He enjoyed caressing her face, running his hand up it, through her silky hair and then following it down her body, pressing and massaging it as it, or they, went.

His feet had kept walking in step with Fleur's and before he was even aware that they'd gone anywhere, Fleur had taken them to her bedroom. She'd failed to navigate through the door, if she had meant to at all, and Harry had her pressed against the wall.

He could feel his molten desire and passion around them. He could feel his magic surging, its presence mixing with Fleur's, driving the two of them to a wild frenzy. Fleur began to pull at his outer robe, demanding they come off. His shirt was next as she divested him of the item that was interfering with her hands exploring his upper body.

When his shirt came off, Fleur's palms came to rest on his pectoral muscles and she slowly shoved him away. Harry stepped back, following her lead as she created space between them. Her hips pressed into the wall, propelling herself forward while her chest jutted out toward him, the space between them decreasing but still more than a foot remained.

Her blue eyes had an inner fire, a raging furnace and he felt something shift. It took him a second to recognize what it was, what had happened.

Fleur had released her grip on her allure. The previously tightly constrained hold was let loose and it washed over him, egging on his lust, driving away his inhibitions and making him marvel and focus on the ethereally beautiful creature before him.

Harry's breathing stilled, his mind torn between fighting the effects and his mutual agreement to heighten the effects their impassioned tryst had already reached. As if he knew exactly what she wanted, he began to back away, his heels turning and leading him towards her bedroom.

Step by step he kept moving backwards, never tripping and feeling as if he was floating, entranced by the beauty before him. Her silver hair shone ever brighter as it reflected the light, her blue eyes were alight and wantonly roving his half naked body.

His calves hit the end of the bed and he let his knees buckle, falling back onto the bed. Propped up on his elbows, he watched as Fleur prowled towards him, her hips moving in exaggerated fashion. Two steps away from him, she played with the hem of her shirt and smiled devilishly at him.

Harry's chest constricted.

He'd already seen her topless, he'd already explored every inch of them with his hands and mouth but they were no less enticing to him than they had been the first time he was able to see them, to fondle them.

Slowly, in an _agonizing_ way, she began to divest herself, working up one side just above the other then switching sides, repeatedly. When the bottom reached her breasts, she ensured it was pulled taut and the firm swell of them wouldn't allow the front of her shirt to pass. The back, however, kept climbing.

The fabric stretched and Harry was sure it was matching the groan he let out that it refused to snap up and over her breasts. Fleur held her hands where they were and closed the distance. She reached the bed and then put one knee to his left and then the next one to his right, settling on top of him, straddling him. Her core settling on his thighs.

Harry didn't move from his propped up position, even though his hands _desperately_ wanted to help alleviate her of her shirt. She continued to grin at him before making the necessary movements to have her tits explode out of the ill begotten shirt they had been constrained by.

Fleur grabbed his hands and brought them to her breasts as she descended down upon him. "'Arry." She said as he began to knead and massage her chest.

Harry didn't care if that was the only thing she said for the rest of their time together tonight.

"'Arry, look at me," she said after another moan had escaped her lips.

Harry did as she asked but didn't stop his hands from roving her body.

"I want this. I want you," she said simply, conveying a deeper meaning than those mere words had said.

Harry's hands stilled but the heavy magical build up between them didn't decay at all, if anything, it continued to build.

"If we do this, if we take the final step, I'll be yours and you'll be mine, _toujours_." Harry could feel the sincerity in her voice as she looked down upon him from her enticing position.

The words pierced through the haze of lust that had descended upon him, not that he was ever not in full control of his actions, thus far, anyways. Her being his, his being hers. That was _exactly_ what he desired, what he wanted. Fleur was _his_, nobody else would run their hands along her long legs, nobody else would rest their hands on her hips and only he would get to unihibidly explore her body, marking it, taking it, making it his.

Harry growled in response and pulled her in for a deep kiss. In doing so, her hips must have been pulled forward, higher up on him, as he could feel the friction as she ground her body into his.

Fuck.

The friction felt too good and when he opened his eyes, he could see Fleur knew exactly what she was doing. Well, two could play at that game. Harry's lips detached from hers and he began kissing across her cheek, then down her neck, slowly, with suction and gentle nibbles. He descended lower and hoisted her up, his two hands grabbing a hold of her ribs and ensuring his mouth had unfettered access to her breasts.

He began to kiss around them, slowly, paying her back for the agonizing she had done to him earlier. She moaned, gasped and spoke unintelligibly as he expertly drove her to new pleasurable heights.

Fleur wasn't idle as she kept grinding, she kept pushing harder and harder to have her core generate as much friction and movement on his hardness as was possible.

The two of them were connecting and willing the other to do more, to take more from each other as they selflessly willed and worked to the others pleasure.

At some point, Fleur had had enough. She pushed him back down, whereas he'd been seated on the bed and his mouth working on her breasts, teasing and playing with her hard nipples.

"Enough," she growled, she got up off the bed and stood, reaching a hand forward.

Harry was confused and let himself be pulled up, reaching his hand to meet hers and then leveraging himself to be standing. Fleur wasn't covering herself up, her heavily lidded eyes were still overflowing with lust and desire but...she had gotten them off her bed for some reason?

Fleur's hands gently guided his body into hers and she began to kiss him, her lips worked with as much passion and desire as they had with any kiss before but it felt like it was leading to something. Her hands worked up his face and she threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling on it and pressing him into a harder kiss in turns.

Then they descended, her hands, her finger tips, each moving around his body, his neck, his shoulders, his arms, forearms, hips, and then up his chest and down his back. After she'd touched and probed at his upper half, her hands rested on his hips. Then her fingers moved and began to pull down, keeping a grip on the top of his pants, forcing them, slowly, to descend.

Harry's breath stilled, his blood pumped, pulse throbbed and his heart skipped a beat as his brain realized what she had meant by 'enough'. His hands shot out and he took hold of her wrists, stopping her from continuing their movement.

Her chin lifted as her eyes sought his in question. Her wide eyes looked so confused and vulnerable.

"A-are we g-going all the way?" He asked, his throat suddenly dry and constricted.

She tilted her head, "Do you not want to?" It was as if she was having a hard time understanding the disconnect between what his feelings must be communicating to her and what his words had said.

"I-I do," he said, cursing his fucking throat for making him stumble over his words.

"Then why?" she looked down at his hands.

Harry had followed her eyes' descent but didn't make it all the way there, logging Fleur was the better option, especially when he knew what she was asking.

"I-I want to do a ritual, when we have sex," he told her and then realized he hadn't actually explained the ritual at all. "I'm completing my sets and one of them has an option for me to do a ritual for sharing our most potent magical traits with each other." Seeing her bewildered look, Harry explained further, "You'll gain one from me and I'll gain one from you."

Fleur's hands dropped off his pants and she gave him a queer look. "I can't...do more. Well, more than _one_." Fleur said, the way she spoke made it clear she was questioning things.

"You have to do a ritual still, to complete a set?" Harry asked, having had no idea she was a ritual short of completing a set of some sort.

"Oui," she replied, "all Veela do," she answered as if there was all there was to it.

Harry blinked, and blinked, as he took in the simplistic response. Some elaboration sure would have been nice. "What does the ritual do and how many have you done?" Harry asked after a moment.

Fleur giggled in response and it did _wonderful_ things to her chest, drawing Harry's eyes. "You want to ask that now?" she glanced down below his belt exaggeratedly, "When there are _other_ things we could do?" She didn't move as her mirth filled eyes looked at him. Her fingers trailing up and down his torso as she awaited his response.

"I want to do the ritual and it requires it to be done when the woman is still a virgin." Harry stated, realizing he hadn't actually said that part.

Fleur laughed at him, "Really? My first time and you want to be focused on a ritual?"

Harry hadn't really considered that aspect of it. Was he asking for them to give up something by doing it? Was it just weird and selfish to ask for a ritual to be done as he took her virginity, and that of Natalia too, if it came to that.

Harry shrugged, "You might become a parseltongue out of it, or gain some other magical trait."

Her musical laughter rang out again, "I'm not concerned with talking to snakes. I was trying to charm one out of your pants," her hand covered her mouth as she giggled and leered at his crotch.

"It's _much,_ much more than that," Harry stated, slightly annoyed that the amazing gift he was offering was being so casually turned down.

Fleur shook her head, "Harry, I want you to fuck me. Are you going to, or non?" she had a giddily incredulous expression as she stared at him. What a weird night this had turned out to be.

"I want to do the ritual but it will only count as mine, it won't be a ritual for you," Harry said and this whole situation was starting to feel surreal and weird. He was just about to have sex, for the first time in his life, with a French Veela that loves him, no less, and his fucking rituals are screwing up the mood.

"Fine. I'll do mine then, too," Fleur said with a shrug, leaving her tits to bounce _wonderfully_ again. Fleur moved past him and went to her dresser, she withdrew a book and began to pursue its contents.

Taking that as she was preparing her ritual, whatever it was, he decided to call for Dobby to bring him his instructions. Dobby quickly popped in and gave him the instruction while Fleur was out of the room for a moment.

Harry's heart was back to racing, but not from sexual tension or anything this time. It was nervousness. Like was she just going to not go through with this now? Should he even go through with it? It was clear Fleur was almost hysterical before but should he go ahead now? Would Daphne lose it on him for not meeting her criteria?

He didn't even know what to think of her.

He read over the ritual, trying to drive thoughts of Daphne from his head, thankfully it was rather simple. They had to drink a potion, one that he had pre-prepared, as it kept for up to ten years, and then Harry would have to mark Fleur's body with runes, runes drawn with a mixture of their blood. Fleur would have to draw the same runes on him, if he was not able to do so on himself.

Harry read on and his palms were sweaty as he considered what he was about to attempt. There were runes for her forehead, for just above her sex and one over her heart. Harry had the reciprocal runes and he realized they wouldn't be difficult to draw at all. This was a far less complex ritual than most of the ones he had done before.

Idly Harry realized that he had promised Daphne could see all his rituals but she would have to forgive him for foregoing this one. He was not going to have sex with Fleur and have a voyeur for it. This would be their moment, theirs and theirs alone, if it came to pass tonight.

Bloody hell, Daphne was back in his thoughts and he couldn't get her out, again. Well, if this was happening, she'd just have to be disappointed. It was clear to him that she wanted to get that contract done and use Salazar's library to end the progeny issues for her family line. Her pragmatism and business style approach to relationships had been useful so far. Honestly, if he was going to be married to Fleur and Natalia he would need a good mediator to smooth things over behind the scenes and Daphne certainly fit that criteria.

Harry shook his head. Here he was, quite possibly about to have sex for the first time in his life and he couldn't keep his thoughts from politics and magic. Like, shouldn't he have been freaking the fuck out right about now?

He, a fourteen year old, a young man just a few years removed from living in a bloody buggering cupboard under the stairs and he was about to score with a young woman that was _impossibly _good looking. Literally. She had magic that played a part in how ridiculously amazing she'd developed.

He was nervous and his adrenaline was running but shouldn't it be more? An older French Veela, almost sex incarnate, and he was worried about rituals and politics.

There was definitely something wrong with him.

Merlin, it'd be better thinking about how he could brag to Dudley about this, or anything. Well, okay, thinking about Dudley before possibly losing his virginity…

Fuck.

There was definitely something wrong with him. All that could be worse were Uncle Vernon and his sister…

Fuck.

Why couldn't his mind just stop doing this to him! Think sexy thoughts damnit!

Fleur topless!

He shut his eyes and when he opened them, there she was, Fleur topless, appearing as if summoned by his thoughts!

He gave her a warm smile and couldn't help but goggle at her fantastic figure.

"'Arry," she said, failing to stifle a small giggle, "I'm ready."

Harry raised his eyebrow, "Ready?" that could mean a number of things. He glanced down, she only had knickers on..._only knickers on_, and wow was that ever a lot of skin. But that didn't mean she was, err, ready for...penetration…? Did she mean ready for her ritual, or ready for a ritual?

Fleur's musical laughter filled the room again. "'Arry, we will never tell anyone about this. I come back into the room with pants off, with _only_ knickers on, and tell you I'm ready and your first instinct is to question it?" she shook her head, smiling all the while, and stepped purposely towards him.

Fleur decided to have pity on him and answered his query, "'Arry, this ritual is marriage for a Veela. It will be me and you, _pour toujours_," she told him seriously, the solemnity playing off weird when there were two half naked virgin teens in close proximity to each other.

It had taken some time but Harry's mind had supplied him with an idea of what was going on. When faced with sex, rituals and politics, his mind was prioritizing and compartmentalizing. Obviously it wasn't perfect but it was damn effective. When he was just faced with him and Fleur getting hot and heavy his body and magic responded perfectly. When there was something his mind deemed more important it prioritized it.

Harry had no idea if that was actually what was happening but it seemed as good a reason as any. Making mistakes that could lead to political disaster or magical ruination were two things that were far more important than losing his virginity, crazy hot French Veela or no.

Harry took a second to appreciate the view before him. He was being paid back tenfold for some of the garbage his life had to deal with. If he got to be regularly intimate with the young woman in front of him, he'd be willing to take on a few more problems if it was paid back like this. He almost snorted, Natalia and Daphne were incredible looking too and maybe this was how his stored up karma was being repaid.

"I am yours and you are mine," he repeated her earlier mantra, thankful that it came out in as strong a voice as he had expected it to.

She smiled beautifully at him, her lips pulling wide and her face aglow. "Veela do not share information about our rituals. Know I am prepared and will carry out my task."

Harry nodded, "Does it matter if you do it tonight or not?" He almost smacked himself for asking _another_ question about rituals when he had only a thin piece of fabric keeping the exquisite young woman in front of him from being fully bared before him.

Fleur giggled again as she stepped forward once more and placed a hand on his chest, "This time, next time, it would make no difference. As long as I do it early it is fine."

"Can I know what it does?" Harry asked, not bothering to try and mute his curiosity. It was better to just get it out and then focus on Fleur, solely and wholly on her.

She cupped his face and softly kissed his forehead. "It is good to know you are not driven by 'ormones 'arry. I'm ready for you to take me and your mind is stuck on academics." There was no anger or frustration in her voice, not even any disappointment. She smiled softly as the depths of her blue eyes took him in.

"I will not 'ave to worry about my allure after this," she told him and Harry showed his surprise, his eyes widening slightly. "I am anchoring myself in you. You will be the only one I want, the only one I desire. Magic will recognize you as my mate."

Harry's eyes didn't turn away from hers as she said that. A quick fleeting thought had him thinking that she was probably not allowed to give him exact details but it didn't bother him, she'd never demanded to know about the minutiae of his rituals either.

He initiated the kiss, softly, gently, he tried to show her his love, acceptance and acknowledgment of the wondrous gift she was giving him. Fleur could probably have most any man, and, of all of them, she was choosing him, to probably share him.

His hands worked up her body but he came to the quick realization that he was holding the potions they had to drink. He broke the kiss, feeling disappointed that this couldn't continue naturally, and gestured to the potions.

"We each drink one and then I'll need some of your blood, to mix with mine. I'll paint some matching runes on us, just three," he clarified at her worried look, "and then we can just go for it." His voice was quiet, more than a tiny bit regretful too.

He passed the vial to Fleur and the each quickly downed the contents. Harry withdrew his wand and vanished both of the empty vials before realizing a bit of overkill on privacy wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Fleur smiled softly at him and rolled her eyes as a few silent spells flashed out of his wand, overly securing the room. He stowed his wand away and grabbed the ritual knife. Deftly, with well a practiced motion he cut his palm and allowed blood to pool in it, he only needed a small amount.

Harry didn't need to gesture to Fleur, she held out her hand and he cut her, even if the thought of harming her made him cringe. "Sorry," he couldn't help but whisper as he cut into her. He held her hand and positioned it so the blood flowed down her finger and dropped right into his open palm, the one that already had some pooled blood. Harry took his free forefinger and mixed it thoroughly before indicating Fleur had contributed enough blood.

Harry took a deep breath and drew the first one on her head. He shouldn't have been surprised in retrospect but he had expected she might not enjoy having her forehead painted in their blood. Fleur just watched him intently and let him do what he needed to do.

With the first one carefully drawn he used her mirror to ensure he painted the same symbol on his own forehead. Fleur watched carefully and gave her approval that he had drawn the exact same symbol on his own forehead.

Next, Harry drew on his own chest and then he went to work off his own pants, needing to be able to access his bare skin.

"Non." Fleur stated sternly, making Harry pause his action. "You will finish undressing me and I will finish undressing you."

He just nodded, he had no issues with that arrangement. Fleur used both of her hands to slowly pull his pants down and Harry stepped out of each pant leg when it was helpful to do so, with each pant leg being removed his final undergarment went along with it.

Harry couldn't help the tightening of his body, he'd never been naked before a girl before.

Fleur gave him a radiant smile, "'Arry, there is _plenty_ to work with, there is nothing to be ashamed of," she spoke out clearly, eyeing the blatant erection he was sporting. "Finish what you 'ave to do, I want..._need_, this."

No matter how compartmentalized things might be, hearing that made his confidence soar to new heights. It didn't feel like she was just saying that, the predatory glint in her eye surely couldn't be faked.

Harry took a deep breath and focused. He drew on himself first, just where he had made sure to have cleanly shaved skin, painting runes onto skin over pubic hair… Yeah, that was never going to work.

Once completed he motioned to Fleur and she did a little twirl for him. "Ready to undress me, 'arry?" she grinned as he was obviously eyeing her otherworldly body.

Harry nodded exaggeratedly, words might fail him and he didn't want that right now. Fleur turned around, facing away from him and bent over slightly.

Harry felt his breath still, again, as he stared at her beyond perfect derrière. His free hand gripped her knickers and slowly he began to descend them. He lowered himself and began kissing just above where the line of fabric was. He wanted to run his hands all over her but one was holding up the mixture of blood and the other was busy. If it was possible for this situation to, in any way, not be amazing, and by no means was this predicament anything short of qualifying as such, it would be totally and utterly his fault for insisting upon the ritual. But not even that could take away from this moment.

Before long he was watching Fleur turn and he was on his knees before her. Her sex was right in front of him and he kept his mind focused, he just had to paint _one_ more thing, activate the magic and then he could stop thinking about anything beyond loosing his restraints and unleashing his pent up desire for her.

It was _so _difficult. He could _smell_ her. It was a scent he couldn't mistake for anything else and he couldn't wait for it to be stuck on him. He breathed in deeply, controlling his breathing, a way for him to remain calm enough to be diligent in the final part of his task.

Finished! He was finished drawing! He took an extra moment to inspect his work and was pleased there were no errors. He followed the instructions now, he activated them in the correct order. Harry started with his head, then below his pelvis and finally his chest. He felt the magic take and then went to repeat it with Fleur.

"Once I activate the one on your chest, breast, that's it. I just have to..._finish_ inside of you." Harry said, barely above a whisper as his fingers contacted her forehead, and he pushed enough magic in to activate it. His hand went down below her waistline and activated that rune, his fingers touching her smooth skin and _desperately_ not wanting to finish his final task.

He brushed his fingers onto the last rune, the one over her heart and he activated it.

Immediately he could feel the rush of magic. His magic whirling and swirling around him. Her magic blazing and heating up around her, them.

Harry's hand worked, kneading, massaging and holding her breast, the next one grabbed her derrière, the very thing he had wanted to do earlier, now that there was _nothing_ stopping him.

It must have only been a few seconds when a wave of magic burst from Harry, Fleur's magic reciprocating. It was intoxicating, overwhelming.

His mind began to lose focus, his magic was _overpowering_.

It was pouring out of him. His magical senses were being overloaded.

There was too much magic, it saturated the very air until he wasn't sure they'd even be able to breathe the magic-heavy air.

His body kept working, knowing, instinctually what he should do. His lips were on hers, his hands working her body and Fleur's weren't idle either. She knew _exactly_ how to work him over, how to drive his body crazy.

A second wave of magic burst from him, an answering one came from Fleur.

It felt like the very air itself was on _fire_.

Was he breathing? Was he alive?

There was such a domineering magical presence that Harry felt like his body was being condensed, forced into itself.

Bam! A third wave of pressure emanated from him and Harry knew he couldn't take it anymore.

There was too much magic, there was all this pressure, all this magic around them that it couldn't continue. He couldn't take a fourth one!

Harry was struggling, he had no idea what was going on. He felt so overwhelmed and so, so very good. His body hadn't stopped working. His lips were on Fleur's. His hands enjoying, exploring hers.

Just when Harry was bracing for a fourth outpouring of magic the pressure reached its peak and suddenly everything changed.

All the pressure, the overwhelming presence of their magical outpouring, began to mix. Where their two magics had been distinct to his senses before, where he could feel his magic separate from Fleur's, the distinctions were lost now.

His magic was blending with Fleur's as if someone began to stir a large cauldron with angry contents that needed to be brought together before they exploded and destroyed their wondrous potential.

It kept going, their magic becoming indistinguishable from each other's. All the while Harry's mind was lost in ecstasy. Fleur was making him lose coherence. He was letting her allure dominate him and not regretting it for a second.

He wasn't out of control of his actions, he just felt like he was being guided. That _somehow_ he just _knew_ what he should be doing, how he should be expertly working her body as if he was far more experienced than he was.

Whatever their magic had been doing, it began to settle, no longer overwhelming his senses. It had moved on to some new state and was content to being there.

They kept going, their physicality growing second by second until he knew he was undertaking a task he'd never done before. Just as he began, their magic began to work. He could feel the three spots. It was as if they were the entry points and the conjoined magic was entering their systems.

Things became frantic now. Driven on, he began to work, his mouth moaned and groaned as he took Fleur. Her answers were driven by ecstasy. Her hands urged him on when they were not busy with his body. Her voice could be heard but Harry couldn't discern whatever it was that she might be saying, if she was saying anything at all.

The magic kept going, imbibing into their very beings, the pressure inside of him built and built. He could feel her legs wrap around him, pulling him closer, her muscles tighten as the urgency of her vocalizations continued to escalate.

It kept going, building and building and building. This pressure couldn't be contained, the ecstacy, the magic, it was all too much. Harry moaned and groaned as he grit his teeth trying to prolong things, as he tried to keep himself from exploding from within.

Minutes were seconds, seconds were minutes. Slow was fast and fast was agonizingly slow. Nothing and everything made sense all at once.

This couldn't continue. He was losing his mind.

The pressure built and built.

He grit his teeth harder, his controlled breathing wasn't anymore.

His breaths came fast and hard. Sweat poured from his brow and he could _feel_ Fleur's magic in him. He could _feel _his in hers and he knew, the very core of him knew, there was just one thing left to do.

There was one inevitable conclusion and he couldn't keep it from coming.

His eyes focused on Fleur and somehow her eyes stared at him, neither of them watching the rhythmic motions they had been, and still were, engaged in any longer.

She was so beautiful.

She was his.

He was hers.

That was it. The final knowledge, that whatever was going on with them couldn't be contained anymore.

He was grunting, sweating.

She was flushed and crying out.

It was the end.

Their magic reacted, the runes flashed, glowing brilliantly and the magic burst out from within them.

His body was spent, his magic exhausted. What had just happened wasn't just physical, it wasn't just mental or magical. It was all of those things and spiritual as well, there was something unquantifiable about what had just occurred.

Harry collapsed and rolled them over, his hand found her flushed face and he gently stroked it. Fleur tried to reciprocate, her hand reaching his face but it could do little more than that. She was even more spent than he was.

Harry's green eyes stared into her blue ones. He wanted to tell her she was his now and he was hers. He wanted to tell her they were one, they were together. He wanted to cry out woe to any that dared to take her from him.

But he couldn't. He couldn't tell her these things. Harry couldn't even muster the energy to tell her that he loved her.

His vision was failing, his muscles were relaxing and it took all of his willpower to keep his eyes open.

He focused on her, the bliss, the contentment, he watched as her lidded eyes began to shut. Her face slackened and he could see that was it for her, the lights were out.

He looked at her once more, forcing his eyes open a final time, he took in the amazing young woman before him, sleeping in his arms, and he couldn't help but thank whatever deity had made this happen.

She was his and there wasn't anything Harry could think of that compared to that, this. He drifted off, his body, magic, mind and spirit were wholly spent, he brushed her cheek one final time as his eyes shut and he knew no more.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Yay, another one in the books! Not a whole lot to say beyond the usual:
> 
> Thanks to my awesome betas Nauze & Triage, and my french language helper Gab!
> 
> Thanks to all who read, comment, kudos, subscribe and bookmark. The support is lovely!
> 
> Feel free to join us on discord, the link is in the profile.
> 
> See you next chapter, stay safe & healthy.


	43. A Song of Ice & Fire

Harry had been awake for a few minutes and the whole time he'd been wondering if it had all been a dream. Had he and Fleur really completed their rituals? And, every time they had woken through the night, had had sex?

If his nose was to be believed, and it usually was, the pungent smell of nocturnal activities confirmed it was no dream. Harry had often heard upper years say that 'it reeked of sex' but as Harry breathed in, that line of thinking appeared entirely erroneous. There was nothing unpleasant about being reminded of the mind-blowing experiences he'd engaged in with Fleur.

Literally mind-blowing. After losing his virginity, he and Fleur had been unable to do anything but pass out. Even just trying to think back to their first time was a struggle. Whether it was his ritual, or a side effect from hers, he had no idea. All he knew for sure was that both of them had blacked out after reaching a mutual high.

Harry took a moment to continue to admire the sleeping beauty resting beside him, her soft breaths were so relaxing and cute to listen to. He ran his hand down her shoulder, along her back and he couldn't help but squeeze her bum as he made his way down to where the curve of her cheek met her leg.

It was amazing having such unfettered access to her body; it just skewed with his mind that he got to run his hands _anywhere_ on her body. He got to look at everything, up close and personal, with Fleur enjoying, even relishing and encouraging it. All his life, these moments weren't permissible. Even when Slughorn set him up for some education, it just felt wrong and off putting to a degree.

This though, this, this, felt..._right_.

Harry let out a yawn and didn't bother to cover his mouth, he would definitely be deprived of sleep today. He really had no idea how long things had taken and, for that matter, he had no idea what time of the day it was today. They'd slept in Fleur's bed in the carriage and the windows were charmed, the magic currently showed a starlit sky. It was only that Fleur had kept it in night mode permanently that there was darkness in the room.

Harry could check the time, he could get up and get on with his day but he didn't want to. He'd had a magical night with Fleur, literally a magical night, and he didn't want to get his bum out of bed and deal with life. Here, in bed, he could pretend the world wasn't moving on without them. He could lose himself in Fleur's body, their mutual pleasure, and not deal with the consequences of their actions.

Really, Harry just couldn't keep his eyes off of Fleur, she was too exquisite, too stunning, and he wished this would never end. But, he knew it had to, and more than likely, soon.

At least, with Fleur asleep, he could just be lazy and not get up yet. Though it didn't' stop his mind from being active.

When he'd told Slughorn that he was going to go after Fleur, he hadn't anticipated this would be the scene he'd woke up to the next day. At best, Harry had hoped to clear the air between them and have her open to the idea of being with him again. He'd asked Slughorn to mention it to Patrice, as they were meeting later that day, but he hadn't expected to wake up thoroughly sated. Now, he was quite possibly fucked to some degree, and not the happy kind of fucked, his unforgettable night with the goddess beside him may be about to cause him as much trouble as it had brought him pleasure.

As his mind began to wake up and function normally, he realized that Fleur had told him that they were essentially married now. If she was to be taken quite _that_ seriously, and he didn't have much of a reason to doubt her, then Harry had just married the Delacour Heiress without talking to her parents first or having anything done in writing. Sure, they had essentially come to an agreement previously but that wasn't the same as a signed, sealed, and delivered contract.

Harry leaned back and groaned. Slughorn had literally provided training so he wouldn't just go and have sex without sorting out the consequences _first_!

Yet, looking over at the beauty laid bare beside him, he had a hard time finding fault with his actions, even less to find them to have been disagreeable. While he was concerned about skipping a rather important step, Harry didn't think that this would balloon into a large issue. In fact, he assumed that it would be far less of an issue than it would have been for the Greengrass family or, especially, for the Pavlov family.

As he continued to let his mind run wild with all of the possible consequences for his rash actions, he noticed Fleur begin to stir, again.

"Morning 'arry," Fleur murmured as she rolled onto her side, a tired smile blossoming on her face.

"Morning." Harry replied as he leaned down to softly kiss her while his hand cupped her breast, giving it a soft squeeze, his knuckles playing with her nipple.

"'Arry," She moaned and quickly scooted her hips over to his, wrapping her legs around his, putting them in as much contact as possible without having one of them on top of the other. "We, we, c-c-can't..." she couldn't help but moan again as Harry had begun kissing down from her ear to the base of her neck, his hands neve idle on her body.

"I know," Harry said dejectedly, his morose tone was tinged with deep regret, "we need to..._talk._" Harry didn't stop his ministrations and he grinned when Fleur's hand took hold of his and kept it from continuing to work her body.

"'Arry!" She squealed when he pinched her nipple again.

"If you are lying next to me, in bed, naked, with your tits out, you can't blame me for reacting." While he was serious, there was an undertone of teasing as an easy grin formed on his face, his eyes shining in mirth.

"Would you prefer I cover up, 'arry, or will you just get up?" Fleur challenged back, her left eyebrow arched and she pushed out her chest, amplifying Harry's draw to her chest.

"Never," he replied, both of them knowing full well that it was time for them to do more than have sex.

"Should we get up?" She questioned, not sounding pleased with the idea at all. Harry imagined the pout he heard in her voice but his eyes weren't leaving her jutted out chest. Fleur, seeing where his attention was, rocked her body and made a point of enticing him as best as she could.

Harry saw what she was doing and didn't fight the automatic response he had. He immediately grabbed hold of her and rolled onto his back, pulling Fleur on top of him. Both of his hands went to her breasts and he pulled Fleur down for a heated kiss.

Fleur broke the kiss giggling. "When I say get up I mean out of bed, _not…_" she didn't say anything as she pressed her hips down into his erection. She put her hands on his chest and kissed him, lifting her pelvis off him. Abruptly, Fleur ended the kiss and almost bounced off the bed, towards the bathroom.

Harry groaned as she disappeared around the corner, she had swayed her hips and turned to look at him just before disappearing, winking at him after leering at his new predicament. Harry dropped his head back into the pillow and groaned. Oh, how he wished it was the type of groan he'd just learned that comes from the wonderful feeling of being inside of Fleur.

Right, thinking about that wasn't going to help either.

Harry quickly decided the best thing for him would be to get up and put some of his clothes on. He had just put his boxers on when Fleur came out, naked as the day she was born, and looked at him bewildered.

"You didn't 'ear the shower running? I thought you'd join me, non?" She pushed out her lower lip into a pout, her eyes widening. "If you'd rather not, I guess I'll just have to wash myself…" Her hands trailed across her body, down her sides, over her hips and then up her taut stomach to her chest, pushing her breasts up and together. As if that wasn't enough to get Harry into a shower with her, Fleur pressed him with one final offer, "There are things we 'aven't done yet, 'arry. Maybe I'll show you 'ow skilled my mouth really is," she licked her lips and winked at him, continuing to hold her breasts with her hands, before throwing her head back and giggling at how Harry had responded, or the lack of it. She quickly turned on her heels and trotted off to the bathroom, leaving Harry behind who was struggling to get his clothes back off as he went to follow her.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

After the best showering experience of Harry's life, the two had returned to Fleur's room where she dressed herself in clean clothes, making a show of it, and Harry threw on the same ones he had worn the previous day. He followed her out but came to an abrupt stop.

"Mon Dieu!" The Delacour Heiress exclaimed when she came out into what used to be the main living area.

Lying down on the remnants of the couch was Cuddles. All around her was trashed furniture, some broken, some burned and other smashed apart. What was most strange, to Harry, was that Cuddles wasn't small. Cuddles was at least ten feet tall and _not_ how he had left her.

Harry stifled a laugh, Fleur had her hand clasped over her mouth and she looked crestfallen that her room had been destroyed. Harry, having lived with the dragon for a while now, was rather used to this sort of issue.

"It's okay, you'll get used to this with Cuddles around," Harry chuckled in mild amusement. He stepped forward and placed his hand on Cuddles, shrinking her back down to the usual size before he called forth his magic. Giving a garish wave of his wand, he used a non-verbal spell to put the room back to rights. All the pieces began to re-assemble and within ten seconds, the room was back to normal.

Fleur shot Harry a smile, 'Thanks 'arry," she said looking at him before glaring at Cuddles. Though the glare softened as the little dragon flapped its wings and flew into her chest, ending up with Fleur cradling the little dragon.

"Suck up," Harry muttered, he'd seen this routine before. Cuddles destroying something and then acting all cute and cuddly so that you couldn't remain angry with her at all.

Harry led the way to the table and smiled as an assortment of food appeared on the table. "Thanks, Dobby."

"Dobby, your elf?" Fleur questioned, sitting down beside him, not relinquishing her grip on Cuddles as her free hand stroked the little bundle of destruction that was held on her torso.

"Yeah, he likes to...er...well, do this." Harry motioned his hand to the spread of food, his usual breakfast favorites were there but also a selection of food he assumed must be amongst Fleur's. She sat there, a little dumbfounded at it all, clearly not having expected it. Harry knew it wasn't the extravagance of the options for breakfast, she was a Delacour and would have had something like this regularly at home growing up.

"Bien," the Delacour Heiress said with a shrug, accepting it for what it was.

As Harry began to eat, and pile his plate full of food, he was doing his best to keep from bouncing in his seat. He wanted to know how the ritual had affected his magic, what he had gained and given to Fleur. Ever since it popped up in his head, he was itching to see if she had become a parselmouth.

Harry decided that he should just go for it, ~"_Hello?_"~

Fleru looked up at him sharply, her fork pausing it's motions, halfway to her mouth.

~"_Did you understand me?"~_ Harry quickly followed up. She had either been startled by him hissing or she understood him. Parseltongue always sounded weird, even to his ears.

"Oui," Fleur said, the fork in her hand shaking slightly as it was still paused in mid air.

It was one thing for Daphne to be able to read books written in parseltongue, it would be quite something else, entirely, for Fleur to be able to speak parseltongue. He had always heard of how it was the trait of a Dark wizard. He was ostracized for it and the only other person to have the ability was, literally, a Dark Lord.

Harry's heart soared, she understood him. She would be able to speak it!

~"_This is parseltongue"~_ Harry hissed at her, a huge smile forming on his face.

He couldn't believe it! The ritual worked and gave Fleur something incredible!

"I can understand it? But, not speak it?" Fleur questioned, her head tilted and eyes narrowed in confusion.

Harry looked at her and then thought back to how he had first talked to snakes. Harry whipped out his wand and quickly conjured a serpent.

_~"Talk to the snake,"~ _he encouraged her, his mouth forming back into the face-splitting grin. Nobody could dare call him a dark wizard if Fleur Delacour was a parseltongue with him! Actually, they might well do just. Paint her as a Dark Lady, a part human beast that was more creature than human, already a Veela and now a parselmouth.

Harry suppressed a shudder as he thought about that possibility. They really might need to keep this quiet. Plus, how would they explain to the public that Fleur became a parselmouth? There is no chance the Delacour or Veela, who have no history of it, would suddenly develop one.

_~"Hello?"~_ Fleur hissed in parseltongue back.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"And this is where I spend most of my time," Harry said, showing Fleur into the Salazar's study. He had gotten her to be able to speak parseltongue, opening the entrance to the chamber and second door into the main area but she had been unable to gain entry into the Salazar protected space. He still had to be here to allow anyone entry, to have kept the door open. Fleur's parselmouth ability wasn't enough to allow her entry, it came down to the bloodline.

She had been excited and unimpressed all at the same time. Seeing the fabled Chamber of Secrets and then finding out that it isn't quite as interesting as you had built it up in your mind was amusing. While the main chamber was impressive, it was never quite up to the mythical levels people's expectations built it up to.

While Harry would agree with the assessment, minus the ridiculous snake guarding it, what was actually hidden was far more impressive. The parseltongue library and training center was otherworldly. How it operated still was not known to Harry. He hoped that after the final ritual he'd find out more about it.

"Are any of the books...glowing?" It was kind of hard to describe what Harry saw, with new content to be read. He couldn't help his eyes from drifting over to the desk, where the books of rituals that he worked through sat. Unsurprisingly, the ritual he was supposed to have completed next was now scheduled for the next ritual day. It was annoying how it _knew_ he had done the ritual with Fleur.

How was that possible?

The Virginity Rituals had always been off in the special set and there were still rituals that were unknown to him, which was, by now, quite normal.

Fleur frowned and looked around, her eyes following him and she gave a subtle shake of her head after looking over the desk. Harry watched as she walked around and appeared to be drawn to a bookshelf in particular. She bent down and plucked a book off the bottom shelf.

It was a book he recognized. The beginnings of the understanding of magic, the four pillars.

Huh, if that first book was any indication, she would, probably, be able to work through the same education that he did but not the rituals.

Harry walked toward Fleur and read over her shoulder. It was interesting that the contents were purely on magic, there were no blurbs or things from Salazar in there, about his personal life. This was purely an academic book, though still written in parseltongue.

"Fleur," Harry gently said her name, trying to draw her attention.

"Hmm?" she responded after a moment, not looking up from the book she was studying.

"Fleur," he repeated, more forcefully this time.

It was of no use though, she was engrossed in the book.

"Fleur," he repeated a third time, this time gently grabbing her chin and turning it. "You can keep reading and studying in a moment. You need to learn about parseltongue first though."

Irritation flashed through her eyes before she resigned herself to listening. She closed the book but didn't put it back, the silver-blonde kept the book, tucking it in between her arm and torso as she followed Harry back to his desk.

Harry withdrew Cuddles from his pocket and enlarged her to the little dragon's preferred hunting size. He watched her fly off to go rat hunting. At some point the chamber must have its rat populations depleted, right? Perhaps Dobby was bringing in more?

The impatient tapping of fingernails brought him out of his thoughts as Fleur was waiting and mildly glaring at him.

Harry smiled faintly and then began to explain. "Parseltongue isn't just a language for talking to snakes. It is a far greater gift than that. The book you are reading was written by Salazar Slytherin."

The new parselmouth's jaw unhinged and went slightly open. Harry thought she knew this, or had suspected it, but it was still quite something for her to have this pointed out about the book she was holding.

It was something Harry had kind of gotten used to. Being in the personal dwelling of one of the founders of Hogwarts had lost its shine over time. But, for anyone new, it was a wondrous thing. He recalled Daphne being just as amazed as Fleur.

"What is even more important, is that parseltongue is a magical language. You aren't reading what he wrote, word for word, you are learning and gaining his _understanding_." Harry had a broad grin on his face, he was happy he was able to share this with someone else.

"I...don't understand?" Her eyes were narrowed but her lips were pouting.

"I understood it like the difference between me telling you how to fly a broom, with words, and me imparting all my skill and intuitive understanding, for flying, that I've learned over the years." It was fun being on the other side of things. He could see why teaching could be a rewarding career, watching Fleur's eyes light up with joy was infectious.

It took a little while longer to get Fleur up to speed on parseltongue and she was enraptured with the place now, curled up in a chair by the fire studying. The one interesting discovery was that the curriculum was not the same as his. It was almost as if there was a way for the Chamber to be aware of how learned they are.

It was one of the things that he had wanted to investigate but it was one he had made virtually no progress on. When he didn't yet know how to even create parseltongue books, he would have no real understanding for what was possible when constructing a chamber like this.

After making sure Fleur was settled and after realizing she was entirely engrossed in her studying, Harry went to go and complete his spellwork for the day. Cuddles, as she was wont to do, joined him, doing her best to deflect spells with her magic resistant hide.

This part of the day was always so much fun. At one point he had worried that doing spellwork everyday would become monotonous but that hadn't been the case. Today, he was doing a different setup, one he called the blitz. Four paces and four hundred moving targets. There were never more than two or three that popped up at a time.

What was more challenging about it was that the targets which were available for him to destroy, were moving in and out of objects and being randomly shielded. He couldn't just send a single hex at every target. Even if he did that, then some perfect shots would not destroy them every time. If he wanted to take them down in a single series of successive spells, Harry had to blast the shield and then hit the target.

Every day wasn't the exact same exercise. Harry believed that varied exercises, including ones where the targets fired back spells, would prepare him better for wizarding combat. The methodology for the combat style was abundantly obvious. Strike hard, strike fast, and put them down, permanently. In fact, many of the spells were simplistic. The penetrating hex was designed to bore holes and it would work even more effectively than it had on the acromantula in the Second Task.

The one training routine he was having regular difficulty with was the recognition of target blasting when they randomly popped up, vanishing after a mere second, and only some were the ones he was supposed to destroy. The color pattern, for which to destroy and which to not, change every exercise and weren't in a set pattern.

In a way that was very good, in another it was really annoying. If it had been red for destruction and green for leave alone then he might be accidentally training himself to blast red and leave green alone. Whereas, if the point is recognition of friend versus foe, then he needed to train his mind to think and recognize before blasting.

Flitwick had been a major help, designing the exercises and lending him the equipment to set it up. While Salazar's works had begun training him and developing his style, Harry had noticed they had eventually stopped progressing him.

The library wasn't filled with ever increasing difficulties of magic until all manners of powerful spells were taught. In fact, the lack of powerful spells was becoming rather conspicuous in its own right. It was appearing more and more to Harry that it was teaching mastery over one's own magic, thanks to the parseltongue tutelage, but was not progressing one beyond a profound understanding of magic.

There were no instructions for magic that were near as difficult as what he was learning with McGonagall or Flitwick. There was not a cache of dark spells or long forgotten magic that would allow him to dominate a battlefield. It was frustrating, for Harry, as he wanted to have the ability to stand alone against a situation like the Second Task and have no fear for his survival.

Harry called Cuddles over, it was time to get this started. He placed his hand on the larger than normal dragon and increased her size even more. She grew, her upper shoulders rose about six feet off the ground, not when she was a good size. There was correlation between her size and the ability to reflect spells. As a tiny dragon she couldn't stand up to spellfire nearly as well as she could at the largest sizes Harry had made her.

Cuddles flew off, her wings generating wind as she moved away from him. They were lucky the Chamber was so large, Cuddles wouldn't be able to fly around at this size otherwise. With everything set, Harry began.

Three targets popped up and Harry strained to see if his magical sensing ability could tell which ones were shielded. Flitwick had been astounded by his progress in magical sensing. He claimed his rapid rise in skill had been like nothing he had ever heard of before. Harry wasn't complaining about it, not at all. He was pushing himself every day and doing his best to break the expectations his tutors were setting for him.

Day after day he toiled in the chamber; day after day he read his books and studied until sleep was a necessity he couldn't ignore.

Even now, with Fleur over in the other room, he could be going after physical gratification and not exhausting training.

With grim determination Harry continued blasting at the targets, his wand a blur of motion, streaks of light, magic, burst from his wand. The fast, accurate and successive spell groupings were the result of _hours_ of work.

He could see how his efforts were paying off, the next set of three appeared with a flash as Harry had deftly dodged Cuddles' move to block his spells by feinting right before shooting left. The rate at which he could blast out spells, the precision of his targeting and his ability to sense and nullify magic were giving him confidence.

Yet, with all this training, he still felt _lacking_.

Dumbledore had his transfiguration that could turn the tide of a battle. His monstrous creations could single handedly stop a force of wizards on its own. Grindelwald..._Maginot Rouge_. There was nothing more needed to be said than this. The skill and mastery of their magic was something that was on a level that was still _beyond_ him.

Dumbledore had transfiguration, Grindelwald had charms and Voldemort had power and depravity to make themselves known.

What did he have?

Was there some flavor of magic that he could master beyond what others are capable of?

McGonagall was a Dumbledorian within the school of Transfiguration. She had learned from him directly and, from what he knew, neither the headmaster had held anything back and neither was her tutoring withholding knowledge from him. The cat animagus just simply did not have the power and precision to match Dumbledore. Where the man could animate and charm huge statues with the flick of his wand, McGonagall could do it but it took time and taxed her heavily.

Could he become a miniature Dumbledore? Could he hope to match his premitary prowess?

Flitwick was teaching him more in the style of Gellert Grindelwald. He was learning to duel, to sense and redirect magic. He was being taught how to use charms in ways that others simply could not. The former duelling champion was putting him through his paces and there was even talk of combining some lessons with McGonagall.

Then there was Salazar's tutelage. There was no doubt, by this point, that the rituals were turning him into a powerhouse. His endurace was incredible, his power astounding, and his recovery unreasonable. He could spend hours blasting away at spells where it would have left others beyond exhausted.

Still, it wasn't enough.

His hope that Fleur had given him some sort of magical talent was waning. His charms were as good as they ever were, no better. His transfiguration was in much of the same boat. Unless he had gained some form of allure, and neither Fleur or he could tell that he had, then he didn't know what else he could've gained.

His hair was still the same unruly mess that it always was. He hadn't even gained silver-blond tips to make him look unique and cool!

He had expected his round of spell work to have shown something. Yet, it had not. Harry knew the ritual worked. Fleur was a parselmouth; there was no other conclusion to draw.

The green eyed young man didn't let it dwell in his mind too long. It did something and he would find out at some point. For now, he would stay on task and focus on what he could control. He could focus on how hard he worked and putting himself in the best position possible.

Harry continued his spellwork at a relentless pace. Sweat rolled down his face, his heart beat a hard steady rhythm and he kept up his work. Target after target went down, rarely, if ever, did he hit Cuddles. The dragon, by this point, just liked to mess around. At the size required to keep her from taking damage from spells, she wasn't very agile and was mostly just a large moving obstacle to work around.

How long he continued, he wasn't sure. Often Daphne would come down join him at lunch, as or he'd have Dobby pop in on him and the immensely helpful elf would bring his, and Cuddles', food here. So, when Fleur came in and wrapped him up in a hug, Harry was a bit surprised.

"It is time for lunch, non?" she asked, wrinkling her nose at how lovely Harry must smell. To her credit, Fleur didn't break physical contact with the sweaty wizard, leaving her hand to rest on his off-hand. With her face upturned in distaste, she flicked her wand at him, giving Harry a fresh smell and eradicating the sweat and grime.

After calling Cuddles back to himself, he began shrinking her down and pecked Fleur on the lips as he did so. She smiled brightly at him and Harry couldn't help but return it. It was a wonder that this amazing young woman was before him, with him.

Taking a moment to breathe in her scent, he grabbed hold of her hand and made to go back to the study to eat.

~"_Was your studying productive?~"_ Harry asked, enjoying conversing in a language he had never used as a means of communicating with another person. Whilst Daphne could understand it, with the locket on, she could not speak it back to him.

Fleur abruptly tugged on his hand and turned to face him, her face full of cheerful joy. _~"Yes"~_ She hissed back at him and after opening her mouth she slowly shut it, not making a sound. She pulled her wand out and began to spout out a stream of water.

Harry watched as Fleur's face was a mask of concentration, the stream of water floating out of her wand, as if creating a river in mid air, a smile blossomed on her lips as she gave a slight swish of her wand. The water crystalized, turning to clear ice.

Harry's eyes broke away from hers, green leaving blue, and he looked at what Fleur was now floating just off the tip of her wand, such precise control.

What had been a seemingly random spout of water had been anything but. A little ice replica of Cuddles was not floating in between them.

"I get it now…" she paused, animating the opposite of Cuddles, "Transfiguration 'as always been so 'ard. But, now…" she stopped again and covered her mouth with her hand as Cuddles was flying after her animated sculpture. Fleur giggled as the ice dragon didn't outfly Harry's familiar and failed to avoid the jet of flames.

Harry cringed as Fleur's dragon wasn't going to stand up to dragonfire well, that was, until he saw that it had. He immediately turned a questioning gaze as Cuddles tore after the escaping ice dragon, into the main chamber.

"Now, I understand why. I understand 'ow to move past the barriers that 'ad bound me," her countenance was such that Harry was questioning if there would be a gaze of light and a halo would be revealed, adorning her head. Her happiness was infectious and he found her joy beautiful.

Fleur darted after the two dragons, using Harry's hand and pulled him along. She bounced to the chamber, yanking Harry with her, and then she watched, somewhat in awe, as the two miniature sized dragons raced.

As Harry took in the sight, he fondly remembered Cuddles and Fawkes playing chase in the chamber here as well. He loved Cuddles but Fawkes would always have a special fondness in his heart.

They had been on their way to lunch and it appeared as though Dobby was insistent that it was time to eat. A single table and two chairs had appeared and Harry noted there was his usual lunch and he sat down opposite Fleur. Harry didn't know if she had been asked what she would like but Fleur appeared pleased with her selection of food.

"How long will your transfiguration last?" Harry asked, after having the first few bites, his eyes continually drifting to the dragons that were evenly matched, as far as agility and speed but Cuddles' mental prowess was far greater, her strategies effortlessly paying off. Though, for the time being, she was having fun and wasn't actively trying to destroy the ice dragon or use her advantage to make the game uncompetitive.

"They normally last a while," she remarked, not actually answering the question. "I do not know for zis one. I've never been able to do something so complex with such ease, it is as though my mastery of magic 'as suddenly changed," a tinkling laugh accompanied her words as she was still elated by the magical gift she had received.

It made Harry frown, however, thinking about such things. He had no indication as to what he may have received as of yet. "Do you know what I may have gotten from the ritual?" He had not asked this morning. They had been flirty and touchy, basking in the change in their relationship, though neither had been willing to discuss it too heavily.

Fleur's lips thinned in thought. "No males ever get a form of the allure, or so I am told," she shrugged as if she was not fully sure herself. "Your 'air is not silver…can you feel emotions?" She questioned, offering up her hand, for him to grasp, across the small table they were sharing, the two dragons still screeching and giving chase to one another.

Harry held out his hand and closed his eyes in concentration before he grasped hers. There were no directions that he could follow and he tried to do something that was akin to his magical sensing. He let the feeling of magic come forth amongst all his senses. He yearned to feel something, he willed himself to even be able to gauge her mood, and all he was able to do was to feel the softness of her hands and remember how they had excitedly explored his body a few precious hours ago.

Harry sighed in frustration as he opened his eyes, though he did not relent his grip on her hand. "No, it is not that gift." While it may have been rather useful for politics and discerning the truth of someone's words he had hoped for a gift that would lend him aid in his quest to match the titans of magic he may one day draw his wand on.

Fleur's eyebrows scrunched and pushed towards each other. "Then I can only think of fire." The young Veela appeared amused as Harry's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "There have been rumors, for many years, that Veela can conjure fire, throw fireballs and, when thoroughly enraged, transform into an avian creature with a cruel beak, wings and fiery presence."

Harry nodded unsurely, his eyes narrowed slightly, the manner in which the French witch was telling him was one of gaiety, not serious in the least.

"I used fire in the forest because it is what I am most skilled with. Veela 'ave an affinity for it." Fleur informed him and cast a wordless fire spell. She tucked her wand away, still feeding the magical fire with her magic, fire that was about a foot tall and half as much wide, and began to expand it, mold it, and shape it.

Harry smiled gently, enjoying seeing such a skilled witch in action. There were no doubts in his mind that she had earned her place in the tournament as her school's representative.

"I can multiply fire, shape it and control it without my wand, once it is made."

Harry watched her demonstrate and thought it was _very_ similar to what Harry himself had been able to do for some time now. He wasn't sure that it wasn't something that Salazar had passed on to him but now he considered that it might have been the effect of having Cuddles.

He thought back to the forest and recalled how devastating Fleur had been with her usage of fire. She had lit her entire side on fire and used it to shape the battlefield to something that was, for the most part, defensible. Harry hadn't dwelled on that memory or really considered just how the Beauxbatons Champion had been able to do what she did. Could others have done it? Could he have?

He could manipulate and shape fire with mere thoughts of his. He could not conjure it, he could not create dragon fire but he could multiply, shape and control it, much like Fleur. If he already possessed a fire affinity then could he have gained _more_ of it from Fleur? Would it have passed on something he already had and not made any changes?

There was one way to find out. "Mind if I try?" Harry asked as he pulled out his own wand. He called Cuddles back to himself as he would be wanting to experiment with her fire shortly. When the little ice dragon came screeching after and making a dive at Cuddles, who was just landing on Harry's shoulder, Harry lifted his arm, pointed the wand at the little creature and then began to neutralize it. He could feel the spells, intent and will that Fleur had put into it and unravelled them with his magic. The ice dragon ceased to exist.

Fleur's bottom lip was protruded and she was pouting at him. "Did you 'ave to do that, 'arry?"

Harry shrugged as he didn't feel like indulging her playful pouting. To him, the possibility of having gained access to greater abilities at controlling fire were of far too much importance to allow him to be distracted. Though, he frowned, there were some fire based spells he'd used in his work this morning, not to mention Cuddle's own fireballs. There was nothing he had noticed but he had also not been focused on it as well.

Harry increased Cuddles' size and she shrieked in delight, jumping off his shoulder as the little dragon wasn't small enough for her favorite perch anymore. She landed just in front of him and turned towards the main chamber. Harry now took up a standing position behind her and silently had her spout a short burst of flames. With just his hands, and not all that much concentration, he had it curl up, redirecting it in a tight circle towards them both. He parted his two hands next and the line of flames that had been closing on him fast went out to each side, splitting evenly.

Harry kept up his work as this had been something he had been working on. Having a fire breathing familiar was too valuable. He had to find a way to increase his deadliness with his stalwart protector. Thinking back to the Second Task, if he was faced with such a challenge now it would go so very differently. With that in mind, he decided to try his hand at what he had been working on. By this point, the two jets of flames had been going in opposite directions and were circling the chamber.

Harry looked down at Cuddles and cupped his chin with a solemnity that didn't match what was happening. This is where he had progressed to and had been unable to get it to work. He could control Cuddle's fires, he could control basic fire of his own but he hadn't had the ability to control overwhelming amounts of it.

With a simple clenching his fist the fire in the room died out and Harry prepared himself, taking a deep slow breath and shutting his eyes while he did so. "You may want to be ready with a shield…Sometimes it gets a bit…_hot_," Harry, himself, was ready to shield things. Without needing to look at or command Cuddles, the dragon shot a single large fireball out of her mouth and it began.

A strong fire-resistant shield was put up and then Harry connected with the dragon fire. He infused his will, his intent, his creativity and, most of all, his magical power. The first thing he did was snatch control of it and kept it from moving forward and crashing into the far wall of the Chamber. It wasn't difficult and he took control of it, keeping it floating in the middle of the large space they were in.

The real troubles started now. Harry could only control so much fire _actively_. It had been what stalled his progress. He could manipulate fire and then leave it doing something but he couldn't control vast amounts of fire. Though Harry had never tried it, as of yet, his issues were like downsides of Fiendfyre, in large amounts it was uncontrollable, untameable.

Harry began to multiply it and he worked to keep it simplistic, just a large circle motion for the fire to follow. He tried to picture it like he was making a potion and stirring the contents to go in a counter-clockwise motion.

The fire kept growing, from the size of a small car to the size of a lorry. From a lorry to the width of a small home. Ever more it grew; the entire chamber filled with fire. Slowly, like a ball just starting to roll down down the top of the hill the mass gained momentum and began to churn. It was such a slow thing at first, the fire looked as though it was still stationary, but second by second it began to turn.

"Mon dieu"

A voice spoke out from behind him but Harry's concentration couldn't be broken, he had to keep this going, to find his limit. Harry continued to pour it on, to fill the space with fire, swirling, compacting and under his nominal control.

"'Arry, you need to stop," he heard Fleur say as she held onto him from behind, her two hands on his shoulders.

Harry shook his head. His whole focus was on the fire in front of him. Sweat was accumulating across his body, droplets of it fell down his face. He could tell the exertion was taking his toll but he wanted to reach his limit and knew, from vast experience, that the shield would hold.

He lost himself in the fire, a large grin on his face all the while. How long it continued for he didn't know. His mind was fully engrossed in the fire. Rotating wasn't enough anymore, the space couldn't take anymore fire. As he tried to create a space without fire, right down the middle of the Chamber, his control lapsed and the fire burned wild. With nothing but stone and an impregnable barrier it soon petered out.

"Incroyable, impossible. Ce n'est pas possible…," Fleur was now hugging Harry from behind, her arms wrapped around his ribs, and her mouth whispering the words.

Harry took a moment to let his body calm down and, wriggling, he turned around and initiated a searing kiss with Fleur.

"I can do it; I can really do it," Harry whispered, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

"'Arry, 'ow did you do that? Even a full blooded Veela cannot do such things," her quiet words were laced with fright, or, perhaps, astonishment.

"Ever since I got Cuddles, I've been able to control fire…But the gift I got from you must've been your affinity for fire," Harry stated slowly, thinking through the ramifications of that.

"Non, no Veela can do that," Fleur replied, still in a bit of a state of disbelief.

Harry stepped back, so they weren't almost nose to nose anymore, and shrugged. "Has a Veela ever had a partner like Cuddles?"

Fleur narrowed her eyes in thought, "Non?" She wasn't a scholar of her ancestors.

Harry moved and put his hands on Cuddles, shrinking her back so she could perch on his shoulder, like she loved to do before following up on his question with Fleur. While that was a part of it, his actions were buying him time to order his thoughts and decide what to reveal.

"Cuddles isn't normal…" he began with the blatantly obvious statement, "She's almost a part of me. She's an extension of my magic and the result of a botched ritual." Harry gestured back to the table, inviting them to sit where it would be more comfortable before talking further.

"The ritual was supposed to grant me like a power boost. Dragon's have incredibly dense magic, in the make-up of their being, and it was supposed to increase the density of my own magic." Harry shifted in his chair, this wasn't something he relished admitting out loud.

"The ritual called for me to not have anything magical with me when I did it. After painting the runes on the dragons I went back to my ritual chamber and had forgotten I had nicked the dragon figurine, like the one you were given of your Welsh Green."

"That's why you asked to see my dragon figurine, when you first came to my family home?" Fleur asked, connecting the dots from an earlier conversation with him.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah."

"I was an imbecile and am lucky to have lived through it. Botching a ritual like that should have had dire consequences, _not _given me a great friend." Harry frowned, it was another instance of luck versus skill, the very thing he was trying to move away from, so his life wasn't ever life to chance.

Fleur reached out and rubbed the hand that was sitting on the empty table that Dobby had cleared while they were otherwise occupied. "But what is she," Fleur dipped her head in Cuddle's direction, "if she was a figurine and not alive?" Harry gave her a soft smile, that was the ever present question that he had spent considerable time pondering, researching.

"I think, and this is an educated guess, that when the Horntail died, and I was taking in some of her power, essence, that Cuddles received, or became, part of that dragon. Like an echo of her lives on in Cuddles." Harry's cheeks were pinched up as he finished, his eyebrows knit together.

"But she's not a normal dragon," Fleur commented, prompting Harry for further explanations.

"No," his chin went left and then right, before returning to facing straight towards the young part-veela, "without my magic, I don't think she could survive on her own. It is my magic that is connected to her, it sustains her and gives her abilities."

"So she's a part of you?" Seeing his Harry flowy dip his chin she followed it up, "What does that even mean?" Her head tilted to the left as her wide blue eyes stared at him in unrestrained fascination, her hand still holding his.

"I don't rightly know," Harry admitted freely. "I know her body is far denser with magic than my own and that with enough of me feeding her, from my own magic, that she becomes more draconic. Her scales harden against magic and physical attacks, her fire gets hotter and more destructive, and she's more…_wild_. It's almost as if I can empower her, empower the remnant or echo of the horntail's soul."

Harry was going to continue speaking more but he quirked his head as he heard a faint noise of vibration coming from Fleur. He looked to see the source of it.

Fleur stood up, her face showing shock and distress as she frantically ran her fingers through her hair, searching for something. She pulled out a small item that was the exact color of her hair. If she hadn't taken it out, from somewhere within her hair Harry would have never had a chance of noticing it, it blended in perfectly.

"I must go. Maman and Papa will be frantic."

"Why? What is that?" Harry asked as he got up out of his seat, Fleur had already stood up.

"It's my tracker. It sends a signal periodically and I can set it off if I'm in distress…" Fleur was staring at the small device in her hand, turning it over, bemused by what was going on with it.

"And it's going off now?" Harry asked, not quite understanding that when it hadn't actually gone off, from what he could feel or tell. There was a faint feel of magic from it but no more and no sound.

"Non, it's...not able to communicate...properly?" Fleur more asked than said.

That triggered it within Harry's mind. This is the Chamber of _Secrets_ and the hallowed halls of Salazar Slytherin had magic in place to protect people from being tracked here. It had happened to Daphne and now it was happening to Fleur.

"The Chamber is protecting its privacy," Harry stated, nodding in confirmation with certainty.

"I need to go, 'arry, I need to let them know I'm okay."

Just as Harry was about to respond a flash caught their attention and Fawkes was before, crying a song of great merriment upon seeing Cuddles. The majestic phoenix swooped down and dropped a note right into Fleur's startled hands.

Harry's eyes followed his familiar as she tore after her favorite playmate, shrieks of joy and a squawk of surprise as Cuddles already managed to tag Fawkes with a playful nip at his long tail feathers.

"Papa is 'ere. 'E's with Dumbledore and 'e wants an explanation and to ensure I'm alright. Apparently Dumbledore told him 'e believes I am with you," Fleur frowned at the note before looking up at him.

"Dumbledore would know. This happened the first time Daphne came down here too," Harry informed her and the thought occurred to him that it hadn't happened to Natalia. He thought, of the three of them, she would've been the most likely to have this issue. The only real consideration as to why she may not have, might stem from Ivan not having a cordial relationship with Dumbledore, or a reason to suspect Harry had been at the castle with his daughter…He'd have to think on it more.

"Do you want to write a note back?" Harry asked and then added, "Fawkes would surely take it," the bird in question gave a short trill while neatly slowing its momentum to make the overzealously pursuing Cuddles fly past, missing Fawkes entirely.

"Non. I should go; come with me?" she asked, her voice light and hopeful.

Harry shook his head right away, he couldn't go right now. He had to deal with some of the fall out of his retrospectively rash actions and some time to reflect and have some solace from the storm that was about to come sounded great. The only real worry he had was that Daphne was going to come down, into the Chamber.

"I should finish my studying."

"Come for dinner tonight? I want...need...to tell maman and papa about us."

Harry could hear some disappointment in her voice, hope as well. "Of course."

"Stay the night with me too?" she questioned, her lips forming into a teasing smirk.

"Of course," he repeated the previous reply but this time with a large grin tugging onto his own lips. It wasn't a proposition he was planning on turning anytime in the immediate future, that was for sure.

She strode forward quickly and gave him a searing kiss. Fleur took two steps away from him then abruptly stopped. "'Ow do I get out?" she asked, turning back towards him.

Harry glanced at Fawkes and saw the highly intelligent bird was drifting down towards them, Cuddles herself was lazily following after him.

"You'll take her back?" Harry asked, looking at the bird.

Fawkes gave a positively happy trill in reply and Harry ducked his head in acknowledgement. "Right, grab a tail feather Fleur and say hi to everyone for me," he gave her a cheeky grin as she warily looked at the bird.

As if shrugging to herself, Fleur changed from wary skepticism to general acceptance and reached up to take hold of a tail feather when she paused just shy of reaching it. "I forgot to tell you, Daphne came down while you were doing your spellwork." A small smile appeared on her face, "I don't think she was pleased I was down here and didn't stay."

Harry's eyes widened at Fleur's words and he wondered if there was an ulterior motive to not telling him until she was leaving. After saying farewell, Fleur was flashed away by Fawkes.

Harry let out a long sigh, he should probably find Daphne, talk with Slughorn and then meet with the Delacours...his new in-laws...?

His shoulders drooped and he let out another long breath. With the good always came the bad and in the end, he always knew he was going to get fucked, it was just how his luck worked. But, for once, he was looking forward to it.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Yay, another one in the books! Not a whole lot to say beyond the usual:
> 
> Thanks to Nauze & Triage for the beta work.
> 
> Thanks to all who read, subscribe, bookmark, & comment.
> 
> Feel free to join us on discord, the link is in the profile.


	44. Of Minxes & Mendings

_There comes a time in your life where you have to differentiate between what is vital and what is merely important. You can go through life and not have categorized things with either of those distinctions but, at some point, you will._

_When you are young, the most important people to you are your parents and siblings. As you grow, you find friends and they take on an importance that is akin to family. As time moves on, some friends fall away, some families are driven apart and your own priorities shift. The day you get married, your wife becomes the most important person in your life._

_More than likely, this shift happened before she became your wife, potentially when you were betrothed, but it is a new fact of life you deal with. Their safety, health, and well being are now more important to you than your own. It is important to recognize this because of the instincts that are inherent with humanity._

_Magic knows. Magic will act based on your intent and will. It is a subtle thing. It makes you more aware, hyper-alert, in her presence. It is less latent and more excited while in her presence. This has been a field of study that I have considered greatly._

_Several findings are less than ideal. Shielding your wife appears to have an increase in strength, responding to your stronger will and intent to protect her. Further, your thoughts and plans begin to prioritize what is best for her, not yourself. While that does not sound to be especially troubling, the detriments are insidious. What is more, is that they compound when you have children._

_Emotions creep in and begin to rule over logic. If a man lays a hand on you, you do not get irrationally angry and respond more than with a proportional response. However, if a man lays his hands on your wife, your son, your daughter? A proportional response can be overridden by your need to protect and ensure the situation is not repeated, whether it is called for in this circumstance or not. There may well be times for an over the top response, however, it should not be a default setting just because your magic is over excited._

_When one has undertaken the steps to increase their magical density, the issues are even more profound. Note, I am bringing up a specific and __**singular**_ _situation. There are many more areas in which I have studied magic, the mind, and emotions. A part of the ritual set, the one for your mind, has been designed to specifically negate this._

_Before you may consider that I did not pre-warn you, my potential heir, that I would take this step, let me make it clear: you can love your wife and children. You can, and will, have progeny that you feel an obligation to protect. I am not diminishing your capability to undertake such a task of such importance. I am removing, or toning down, the negative aspects._

_You will still love your wife as fiercely as you would have before. However, you will not irrationally be blinded by your emotions. You will be more objective and able to recognize that her life is not de facto more important than yours._

_As I've said, when it comes to family, they are of the utmost importance. Seeking power for the goal of domination over others, or for the sake of gaining it alone, are not acceptable goals. Neither is discarding your ability to analyze, plan, and execute strategies that see your family flourish and live fruitfully. Producing worthy progeny is amongst the greatest achievements that one can achieve._

_While the Chamber of Secrets was built for me to have a place of solitude, I have modified it and turned into a magical marvel. Upon my death, the sole purpose will be to ensure the worthiness of my future heir. Without being a parselmouth, one will not be able to enter on their own. Without having a trace of my magical line, one cannot enter into the study on their own. Even if one is granted access, by way of another that meets the qualifications, they cannot learn or study from my library._

_A parselmouth that is not of my line may be granted access based upon criteria I will not address here. Further, after further testing, they may be granted additional resources. They will, however, never be able to receive the tutelage that is set up to test my potential heirs._

_I believe it will be my crowning achievement, the training of a worthy heir. For I am not creating an enchantment that can be used for centuries. I am creating a wielder of magic that has the capacity to change the wizarding world. I am not taking clay, stone, wood, mortar, bricks, paint, or any other manner of artistic device, and creating a perfect work._

_To do so would be inadequate. I am not striving for perfection. Perfection is static. It is a singular state._

_Wizards are not static. They are dynamic and always in a state of change, flux._

_You can achieve perfection in a single solitary moment in time. Muggles can paint a perfect portrait but it is a single snapshot in time._

_Producing offspring is not difficult. Any wizard, muggle, or squib can spill their seed between a woman's thighs. There are many wizards born each month but so few are ever of consequence._

_I have erred in my life. I have lived a life filled with regrets. There is a form of redemption that can be found after my soul leaves this world. It is a worthy heir._

_One that has the ability to learn, study, and be diligent. One that is powerful and has a foundation that is strong enough to endure and outlast any storm that can be thrown at it. When you have completed my lessons when you have the best of my basis for understanding and manipulating magic. Your body will be hardened, strong, and resilient, your mind sharp and quick, and your magic dense and strong._

_With seven sets of seven rituals, you will have the potential to stand at the level of any other magical user alive. You will have the drive and determination to achieve your massive potential. And, most importantly, you must be the right sort of person._

_All of this is only possible due to my foresight._

_It is I who has created the tools to propel an heir into greatness. But, it is you who must use what I have left. It is you who must be diligent and determined. It is you who will have to make the decisions that make you worthy of such gifts._

_It is you who will become greater than I. And, in doing so, it is you that will become my final and greatest achievement. Not a perfect wizard. A great practitioner of magic with the right sort of intent and will. An upright individual of character worth the esteem you will achieve._

_Be worthy, my heir. Heed my lessons and become a better man than I._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

If he was a girl who had recently propositioned a boy and then found out said boy had slept with another girl, one he was kind of broken up with, and then found out about it, where would he be… Harry was wracking his brain but he had no idea where Daphne Greengrass was. The worst part was she had his bloody map and so she could use his heirloom to hide from him.

After checking the Great Hall, under his cloak, and then the library Harry decided it wasn't worth pursuing. He'd taken his cloak off before entering the library and now was making his way out of the castle. He'd done a cursory search and didn't have time to scour the castle looking for the enigmatic Hufflepuff.

The last Potter had just made it out of the castle when he caught sight of Susan and Hannah. He quickly changed directions to jog after them and see if they knew where she was. It didn't take them long to notice his approach. Any chance at a pleasant greeting was squashed from his mind. Susan and Hannah looked pissed, their fair complections already gaining a pink tinge that was darkening far quicker than was probably good for Harry.

"Potter," Hannah spat his name like it was a curse word.

"Do you know where Daphne is?" Harry asked politely, his wand in his hand and quickly putting up privacy spells. He knew this wasn't going to be a quick easy conversation. Daphne had probably let out something about him and Fleur.

"Haven't you done enough to her?" Susan hissed at him, her face twisted in anger.

Harry's jaw set. It was how he feared and he was going to sort this out now before it grew to become more. Having Susan hate him or paint him in an ill light could have drastic political actions with her aunt, the future Minister.

"And just what have I done, hmm?" Harry challenged back, his green eyes blazing.

"What have you done?" Hannah parroted back, almost screeching in disbelief.

"Fleur. You fucked her, didn't you? You fell to her beauty, her allure, and did it just after leading Daphne on!" Hannah exclaimed.

"I warned you!" Susan snarled, poking her finger into his shoulder. "Don't play around with Daphne. And what did you do? You took her advances, you led her on and then _betrayed_ her."

"Is that what she told you, is that the story she's going with?" It probably wasn't wise to scoff but he couldn't help it.

"She told us. She's been trying to get your attention, she was trying to be provocative and put herself out there for you and you just ignored her advances," Susan seethed and with her frustration boiling over Hannah jumped in to continue.

"Daphne was getting frustrated, almost to the point of tears, that you were outright ignoring her. Both she and her father made it clear they want her in a relationship with you and you just kept ignoring it, putting it off and leaving things in limbo," Hannah added harshly, her one free fist clenched and the other arm on Susan's back, showing support and giving comfort to her friend.

"She watched as you pursued Fleur, as you mooned over Natalia and ignored her. It was our advice to just be blatant about it! You're so thick-headed that she _had_ to act!" Susan's face was as red as her hair and the head of steam she had built up was about to climax.

"Daphne's been trying to work towards what's best for you! She's accepted it wouldn't be just her, with you, and has tried to get the other two, the two girls you fawn and moon over, to come around to it! She's been nothing but loyal and done far more than one should ever expect and then you spit on her attempt. You openly mock the first time she's actually asked for something and do it _the very next day!_"

Harry rolled his eyes and then began his retort, "I'm not sure what she told you but wearing slightly provocative clothing doesn't mean she likes me. Did Daphne ever tell you that she talked to me about how she feels? Did she ever say anything about it because all I've ever known is that it's a good political match and she doesn't want to inflict the contract on her kids, or grandkids."

The anger of the two Hufflepuff's hadn't abated, it was still there in full force. There was, however, doubt creeping in now as Harry wasn't backing down.

"I'm not sure about what you expect in a significant other but I'd sure like to know that they _like_ me and _want_ to be with me. It's always contract this or contract that. If Daphne liked me, she should bloody well _tell_ me!"

"It wasn't fair for her to just kiss me and demand to be my first. I'm not some fucking chess piece to just be moved around to her whims. I'm a _person_, living flesh and blood, with actual emotions. I don't want a marriage that's just a fucking business agreement, I want an actual _relationship_ with someone who is going to be my _wife_."

"Until _very_ recently, I had no idea that she might want to be with me. Did you think I was going to start trying to date Daphne when I was kind of seeing Fleur and Natalia? Can you honestly blame me for _not_ acting like a pervert and trying to get into Daphne's knickers? Do you want me to apologize for it, cause I will!"

Harry was breathing heavily by this point, having worked himself up emotionally to the point that he was physically reacting to it. He breathed in and out, taking quick deep breaths through his flared nostrils. "Is that what you want? I'm sorry I'm not a cad," he stated too cheerfully and then gave a leer at the pair of them.

"I've got a silver-blonde, two girls with dark hair but no red-head or blonde. You've got nice bodies and I'm sure we can come to some business arrangement. How about we all just cancel our plans and go fuck somewhere? Maybe bring Daphne along and join the harem. That better? Does that sound good? Does that sound _agreeable_?"

"That's how this works, right? I've gotten to know you two this year a bit, I've dressed well in your presence and I've told you I want to be with you. Now I kiss you, demand to be your first and you two have to go along with it? That's how this works, _right_?" He reiterated.

Harry had motored over their attempts to respond to what he had said. His words coming too quickly and his words flustering them. He'd lost his patience and wasn't going to stand outside of Hogwarts and hear these two berate him when they didn't even know the full picture.

"I can admit my actions were rash and I didn't think of how Daphne would take them. But let me warn you. If rumors start that something _private_ happened between Fleur and me, I'll know _exactly_ who to blame," he was glaring at them and trying to convey how seriously he meant it.

He stepped back now, not wanting any part of this anymore. He gave a harsh slash with his wand and ended the privacy spells. He strode off, walking so fast he was almost jogging, and waved off their attempts to call him back to talk. He'd caught them off guard with his venomous replies and didn't want to get into anything more with them. If they pushed him hard enough right now he might snap and do something he'd regret.

Before he knew it, he was outside the gates and apparated. Only the spot he took himself to wasn't where he had planned to go. Yet, as he looked up at 12 Grimmauld Place he felt that maybe this is what he needed. Talking to Horace would get him right back into the politics and he wasn't sure he could handle that.

Harry knocked on the door and didn't have to wait long for Sirius to answer the door.

"Harry?" he asked, surprised by his arrival.

"Hey Sirius, free for a visit?" he grinned up at his godfather.

"Of course, of course, come in, come in," Sirius stepped out of the doorway and swung things open.

Harry walked right in exchanging a quick hug with the older man and was not expecting what he saw. Gone was the horrid portrait of his mother and the dark oppressive atmosphere of the home. It looked like the home had been gutted down to the frame and rebuilt to be welcoming and bright.

"Like what I've done with the place?" Sirius asked, clapping his hand on Harry's shoulder, the two of them overlooking the room.

"Yeah. Wow. It's...bright," he blinked as there was now an artificial window which was magically allowing sunlight into the room, even though it had no exterior walls.

"I'm debating selling off the place. Figured I'd get rid of the doom and gloom feel first and make the home of the Blacks as bright as possible," he beamed. "I was going to just buy another place and sell this one off to some muggles but the place is kind of growing on me...I might not sell it now."

"But, enough about that, what's brought you here unannounced, kiddo?" Sirius quirked his head in askance.

Harry opened his mouth but no words formed on his lips. Why did he come here, he wondered. "I'm...not really sure."

Sirius blinked, "You just up and decided to apparate here for no good reason?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Harry confirmed, "I was going to go elsewhere but I was annoyed, upset, and left in a rush."

"Girl problems?" Sirius asked, his face passive but his grey eyes betrayed his keen interest in Harry's response.

Harry sighed and then went and flopped down onto the closest armchair. If he was about to get into it then he would at least be comfortable.

"Actually…yes," he answered with reluctance as Sirius went and made himself comfortable on the couch, his feet up and spread across the length of it. "Is Remus around?"

"No," Sirius said, his face dropping into his hand. "He didn't want any more '_charity'_," Sirius spat the word, "and so he's gone and buggered off somewhere, only dropping in every other day here and there."

Harry frowned since there was more to it than just that but not wanting to call it out. "And he's not back today?"

"No, he's not."

"Are you two...okay?" It felt odd asking, while he was trying to be both empathetic and hoping that his godfather was coming around to his side.

Sirius shrugged and stayed silent.

"Are you okay Sirius?" Harry asked after no response had come and the man had looked uncomfortable, running his hands on his forearms.

"Fuck no," he barked a humorless laugh after responding. "The best friend who thought me guilty isn't getting on well with me. And...and...my…godson is distancing himself from me, us," he threw up his hands, palms up, as he said the last word. "And the worst part is that I can't blame you for it," he whispered, his grey eyes resolutely stared at the couch, his chin tucked to his chest.

Harry felt distinctly uncomfortable, not knowing whether he should say something or try and physically comfort the man. He felt he should but didn't know what to do.

In the end, Harry didn't do either. He waited for the man to recompose himself.

"I think you're doing well, Harry," Sirius said after shaking off some of his melancholy. He swallowed, "You look like James but you're all Lily. You've got her brains and temperament but James' heart. Follow it, it won't lead you astray."

Harry smiled, this was why he wanted Sirius around. The man had made mistakes. But, he cared. He cared for Harry and the younger man understood why his parents had made the renegade Black his godfather.

He'd trust his parent's instincts and give the man another shot. "Want to come along with me today, to the Delacours? You'll learn something I'm sure you'd not want to miss." When Sirius' hopeful eyes met Harry's, he explained the qualifier, "I can't have any of this getting out yet. I'll need a vow from you for it. It's not so much that I don't trust you; it's that it removes the possibility of accidentally revealing any information."

Harry hoped, by softening it, that Sirius would agree and he was elated when the manchild did. After all the experience and help from Ackerly, it wasn't so hard to fashion and reuse a previous one. Sirius had gone off to prepare for spending time with the Delacours and Harry realized there was one more task he could accomplish here.

Sirius came back down, looking dapper and ready for a social gathering, and Harry went for the blunt approach. "Before we go, I was wondering if you'd share some of your memories with me. I have access to a dueling pensive…"

"Of your parents? That's a great idea!"

"No, though I'd _really _appreciate that too," Harry frowned, for a moment, wondering how he had missed that, and then clarified. "I'm going to have to do, or ask, for some things to be done that aren't going to be very...pretty. I need some of your _darker_ memories to prepare myself for what to expect and plan out some strategies ahead of time."

Sirius gave him a flat stare but was uncharacteristically non-emotive. "You're certain this is necessary and that it will help?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Of course. I wouldn't ask otherwise."

"Fine. Let's go upstairs, there are some empty memory vials there and then head to the Delacours. But I want you to tell me why you are so nervous if I'm doing this for you. Tit for tat is only fair," Sirius gave him a mischievous grin.

"Fine. I'll give you something happy to think about while I bring up less pleasant memories for you," Harry conceded. With a vow in place, he looked forward to talking to Sirius. Though the man was on the immature side, Harry didn't think he would ever turn on him. This was the man that his parents trusted to look after him and he felt good letting their wishes be honored right now.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Welcome, mon coeur," Fleur whispered in his ear after she gave him a peck on the lips and pulled him into her bedroom.

Harry looked around and smiled. It was a tastefully decorated and elegant kind of room. Soft blues, whites, greys, and silver comprised the refined color scheme and Harry found the room more sparse than he might have guessed. It was impeccably clean and organized with a good balance between space, furnishings, and utility. There were two doors and Harry assumed they led to a large closet and ensuite bathroom.

Fleur pulled Harry over to a loveseat style sofa that was sitting in front of her own personal fireplace. "I'm glad that is over and that it went well," Fleur commented, wanting to go over the dinner and evening they had just had with her parents and Sirius.

"Well?" Harry questioned. "I thought I was going to die when your mother greeted me and said 'welcome to the family'.

Fleur laughed, "You think that was bad? What she said to me was far worse when I had come home earlier."

Harry raised his eyebrow, "She said, and this is word for word, '_Bienvenue à la maison ma fille. Tu as l'air bien. Si bien en fait qu'on devine que tu as été bien baisée la nuit dernière_'.

Harry blinked and then stared at her blankly. "And that means?"

"It means: 'Welcome home my daughter. You look well. In fact, so well, that I'd have to say you look like you were well and thoroughly fucked last night.'"

Harry's eyes bulged and he choked, even though there was nothing in his throat to choke on. "What?!"

"She knew. She knew right away that I 'ad done the ritual," Fleur laughed at Harry's gobsmacked expression.

"And here I was thinking that you'd tipped her off…" He had been a bit annoyed, believing that to be true but it wasn't that surprising, in retrospect, that Apolline had figured it out immediately. She had pushed him towards this and had probably done the same with Fleur.

"Maman was kind enough to not say it so Papa could 'ear."

Patrice hadn't been happy with how Harry and Fleur had handled it but he was pleased with the end result. "Your mum is too smart for that," Harry idly commented.

"I liked your godfather. Sirius was fun, though I think 'e is not fully well," Fleur said, changing topics.

"I think he wants to be a part of my life. I'm about the only family he has left and I guess it weighed on him that I wasn't keeping him a part of it."

"I think so too. I believe he really enjoyed tonight," Fleur commented.

"Are you okay with what your dad was outlining?" Harry asked, shifting to sit more upright.

"I knew and, though I do not like it, I understood it and accepted it... But, I'd prefer if it was just you and I, no Natalia or Daphne," Fleur said. "But do you want to talk about this when there are _other things_ we could be _doing_, 'arry?" Fleur basically purred at him before lifting her gorgeous dress up and over her body, leaving her in just a sheer bra and knickers.

"Uhhhhh…" Harry tried to speak but his sorta-wife had him rather distracted. "I uh… need…to talk more."

"Talk more?" Fleur said, arching her eyebrow delicately. "You want to _talk_ more?" Fleur asked, wanting clarification.

"I need to. I don't _want_ to," Harry responded quickly. He wanted to get onto the activities that would follow this but it was important.

Fleur pouted her lower lip and crossed her arms under her bust, her breasts just _happened_ to become more prominent, drawing Harry's eyes.

"This entire thing is to allow me to win, to live past Riddle and his force's destruction. If..._when_ we do that, I'll be happy to spend my life experimenting with magic and working to make you, and any other wife I have, happy. With Patrice, Cyrus, and Horace working the financial side, we won't be hurting for gold."

Fleur sniffed but didn't interrupt, she was never going to have monetary issues being a Delacour. "I know that what I'm going to press for, next, is going to be shot down from Patrice, Horace, and Cyrus. It will make me sound crazy and be too risky. But I want your support and I'm going to ask for Viktor's too," Harry told her, his eyes resolute and face hardened with determination.

"What is it that you are asking me to do?" Fleur asked with narrowed eyes, stopping her teasing of him.

"Nothing you would do, haven't done, already. Watch my back and follow me into a situation that will get _hairy_," Harry smirked and waggled his eyebrows at Fleur.

"That was 'orrible 'arry," Fleur smiled and shook her head at his terrible pun.

"But seriously, I'm going to ask Viktor to repay his debt and join us."

"Repay his debt…? What will we be doing, or where will we be going?" Fleur asked, leaning forward slightly.

"I won't say yet. I just need to figure out the logistics and, if they work out like I expect it will, then I'll bring you in first."

"Before your advisors?" Fleur asked for clarification.

"Yes."

"Will you do this even without their approval?"

Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair, then down the back of his neck before he sat back in his chair, slumping into it. "Look, it sounds bad, it looks bad. But I trust my gut more than them when it comes to this," Harry began slowly, "I know that there is an opportunity that we can't pass up and that we have to act, to act _now_." Harry was trying to convey just how much he believed this and he hoped Fleur would back him unconditionally in this. He'd need her, he knew that much.

Fleur looked as though she was carefully deciding on how to respond, her eyes darting around. "'Arry, I mean this respectfully. Your three advisors are all smart, brilliant even. 'Ow could you think you know better than them?" It wasn't accusatory and nor was her tone anything but neutral.

Harry shook his head and tried to figure out how he could explain what was in his head. "Because they aren't playing this to win. They are playing to not lose," Harry said, as the idea continued to form in his mind. "When you play to not lose, you make sure any action you take can't hurt you. You keep your keeper on top of the hoops and you pull your chasers back in tight to him. The beaters disrupt the other chasers and protect your defensive lines. When you are up by more than a snitch catch, then you have your seeker run interference too. You don't let him chase when it is normally a good move because you've _already_ won."

Fleur nodded, this was a well-known tactic in quidditch when you had the game won. It rarely happened in school games but was standard practice when up by two hundred or more points in the professional leagues.

"But they don't see the big picture. Right now, we are winning, we might have even 'won'. But there is more than what is immediately in front of us. They don't get that when, and it is a _when_, that when Riddle gets a body, the _entire_ game changes."

Harry was breathing deep heavy breaths, his fists were clenched and his jaw set. "We are gaining in finances and supplies. We are creating a political bloc that will weigh things to our side but all these moves are just pawn maneuvers. They can sacrifice them because, at some point, they are going to get an overwhelming piece that can turn a losing position into a winning one."

"Why don't you think they see that?" Fleur asked impassively, not giving away her opinion on the matter.

"Because of Malfoy. They didn't see that as a risk worth taking. They didn't trust that I would back away if I was concerned. It was a risk, more of one than I'd wanted to admit to myself, but it needed to be taken." Harry vehemently believed that.

"We need to take their position and make it so unplayable that even with the return of their strongest piece, that it is still a losing position. And, it is _far_ easier to do that when you are in a winning position. We need to knock them down and then step on their necks," Harry said, eyes ablaze.

Fleur slowly stood up. She locked eyes with him and slowly stepped toward him. She turned and give him an up-close and personal view of her pert derrière. With her legs together, she bent her knees and sat on him and then swung her legs up over the opposing arm of the chair.

"I am yours and you are mine," she said forcefully and then Fleur captured his lips. Her tongue pushed into his mouth and Harry's hands began rubbing along her body, one up and down her back and the other up and down her silky-smooth legs.

Fleur broke off their heated kissing. "The world will learn of our _engagement_ but we both know we are far more than that, don't we," Harry nodded. There was no potential future that now did not involve the young woman sitting on his lap.

"I'm not a pretty trophy wife. I will challenge you, I will 'ave my own opinions," her blue eyes shining with such sincerity as she spoke on, "I will always support you and 'ave your back. Never worry about that, as it will never change."

Harry's green eyes stared into hers but his mouth didn't open. His eyes searched hers, his magic interacted with hers.

"I will go with you. You'll 'ave my wand and I'll 'ave your back," Fleur stated.

Harry felt a welling up of emotion and he couldn't put it into words. His throat constricted and his eyes threatened to water. He didn't tell her anything. They were touching and she knew just how much this support meant to him.

This was why he had chosen Fleur. With her, there was no doubt. There were no games.

"Thanks, Fleur. Really...just…" He inclined his head, making their foreheads touch and he rolled his back and forth on hers, shaking his head. "I love you," Harry just had to try and say something, even if it was so inadequate for what he was feeling.

"I know," Fleur told him and it was more than just a response to his words, they both knew that.

"I want you to come train with Flitwick with me. If you are going to accompany me, you'll need to train harder. Joining my lessons and working out with me in the Chamber are what we should start with."

Fleur giggled on him. "Only you, 'arry, could have a mostly naked part Veela sitting on your lap and be talking about training," Fleur's musical laughter rang out through the room.

It was music to his ears and removed any lingering tension that he might have still been feeling. His eyes couldn't help but notice how see-through her bra was and how _magical_ her laughter was as her chest kept bouncing in front of him. Fleur was sitting on him and her torso was higher up than it normally was.

Fleur noticed his change in demeanor and undid the strap keeping the last part of her upper body covered. "I've waited long enough 'arry. It's time to christen my bed."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

He could feel it already. There was a nervous tension within the Chamber when he came back down to it after another thoroughly pleasant night with Fleur. It kept a smile on his face even now. It might have just been his senses playing tricks on him, that he was nervous to find Daphne in the study this morning but he didn't think so.

After he had lit into Susan and Hannah, he couldn't well imagine not having a confrontation with Daphne. Harry just hoped that it would be direct and not turn into a cold war, especially not one where things appear to be cordial between them when they were anything but.

When Harry entered the office he saw Daphne curled up with a book in the seat she often liked to read in. Harry took a deep breath and resigned himself to knowing the best thing to do was to not let the discord between them an opportunity to fester.

"Morning," Harry said, with a little warmth.

Daphne didn't respond right away. Her eyes stayed focused on her book before she nodded to herself and then closed it. After the book had been closed she lifted her chin and responded, "Harry."

With an incline of his head, he acknowledged her greeting and went to sit opposite her.

"What, no Fleur this morning?" She commented acidly.

"What, no Susan and Hannah this morning?" Harry retorted though there was no real heat to his words.

Before the Greengrass heiress was able to say anything Harry cut her off. "We can snipe at each other all morning here or we can actually discuss things without being rude. Care to do that? Cause I'd rather be productive."

"Is that what you'd call it? Being _productive_ with Fleur?" Daphne hissed back. "Trying to make my best friends _productive_?" She sneered.

Without a thought of commenting back, Harry turned on his heels and went to leave the room, only stopping at the door to say one more thing. "I'm going to train. Come chat if you want to talk, not do-" Harry just stopped talking, sighed, and shook his head as he resumed his path to go and train.

He hadn't gotten more than a few steps out the door when he heard Daphne call for him. Stopping, with another sigh, he dipped his chin in, rolled his head around to the left, and let it pull his body back in the other direction.

He re-entered the room and went to sit.

Daphne had her arms crossed and she was staring at him, glaring at him.

"I told Susan and Hannah and I'll just tell you this first. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for acting without thinking of how you'd see it. That you offer yourself and then I run off with Fleur the next day. While the two things are not connected, _at all_, it would have looked that way to you and I apologize for that," he meant it sincerely. He hadn't been thinking about Daphne when everything with Fleur went down.

"Then explain how it is..._not_…connected."

"I'll get there but let's back up a bit first," Harry said, knowing they needed to talk about some of the things he had brought up with her friends.

"Before this year, I've never dated. I didn't grow up being told what dating or relationships looked like. From what I saw, growing up with my…_relatives_ I only saw a man work and then sit on his fat arse and watch the telly. The wife stays home, gossips, goes to the grocer, and makes all the meals. Beyond that, though? Nothing. Just what guys say in the Gryffindor tower," Harry rolled his eyes at this last part. Listening to Dean, Seamus, Fred, or George was just a recipe for a disaster, in his opinion.

"So I go from that to having Natalia and Fleur interested in me," Daphne did not look impressed at his point with his long-winded explanation but he continued on anyway. "Then I'm told that there is a marriage contract for my children if I make one of them the Black Heir. There is such a presumption that I will do such a thing. It's not like I'm the only one left. And no, I don't mean _Malfoy_."

With Narcissa having left the Malfoy family she could birth a Black. Nymphadora or Andromeda Tonks might be candidates to birth son or daughter and, the most likely circumstance, other than Harry, was Sirius having children.

"For this to all lead to some conclusion that I must marry you…it feels crazy to me. You're amending the contract for a regent, instead of the heir, and it should just be a done deal?"

Daphne opened her mouth to speak but Harry wasn't about to let her jump in until he was finished. "No. Let me finish, first."

"I'm sure you know what I told your friends. I'm not a business transaction, I'm a person. I like you, Daphne, you're gorgeous, enticing, smart and devious, and I mean that in the very best of ways." Harry said seriously with a thin, encouraging smile.

"But I have no idea if you like me and by asking for my virginity, which you knew was going to have to happen soon, you were telling me that you had no interest in dating and getting to know me. You just wanted to use the unstableness of my unfinished ritual set and hope that it would create something between us, something you hadn't bothered to try and develop naturally."

Harry took a deep breath, he was just kind of flinging this all at her on a whim. He'd thought of this conversation, more than once, but he didn't have a definite plan, other than to level with her and be honest.

"You're pragmatic, the most pragmatic girl I've ever met, and, I do believe you have been working, the entire time, to my benefit. I don't doubt that if Natalia joins Fleur, being with me, that it would be a whole lot easier for me if you were a mediator between them. But, I don't know if this is strictly business for you and I knew, for Fleur, it wasn't."

Harry wasn't looking at Daphne now. He knew he would be able to glean something from watching her reactions to his words but he just didn't care to do so. He wanted to get his thoughts out in the open and then let Daphne respond.

"I was selfish. I chose Fleur to be first. I knew that and won't apologize for the action, just how it went down, how it affected you. I know I love her and she loves me. Her family treated me as I've always dreamed of..." His voice trailed off at the end, this was difficult to admit.

"Gabrielle is the little sister I've never had, one I could have had. Apolline, while not my mother, somehow respects that and has become a second mother at the same time. While there is a business aspect to our relationship, even when we told them that Fleur mated to me, they were beyond pleased to welcome me to the family, even if the circumstances by which it was done were not something they were wholly ecstatic about."

"I chose family first. Just as you are wanting to fulfill the contract, so your child won't have to worry about it. I know, with the Delacours, that I have a loving family, for now, and through the future. If I need to make other arrangements for business or politics then so be it."

Harry looked up, taking in Daphne's face, meeting her eyes, and he wasn't sure what to make of it all. Her eyes were guarded, her jaw clenched but her eyebrows weren't pinched. So, he sat back and waited for her to respond.

"I'll accept your apology. I _was_ livid," she informed him. "I can understand it better, from your perspective, why you made the decisions as you did, even if I _loathe _them," her eyes were as cold as ice and her voice calm, cold. "Now let me tell you mine."

Harry quirked his eyebrow at that, not sure what was coming and remained silent, as Daphne had done for him.

"We've been in the same school, the same classes, for years now. We've never interacted and I have stayed away from the limelight. There was always the expectation that Lucius Malfoy would gain control of the Black family, though his son, and that was never going to end well for our family. I played my part, I did what could be done. At least, that was, until we were gifted an out," Daphne stated and there was something in the voice that was hard to place for Harry. It was like relief but it had an aggressive edge to it, almost vindictive, which was an oxymoron.

"Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, saved the wizarding world and waltzed in to flip the future for our family," Daphne rolled her eyes at Harry's snort of derision. "Father threw his support behind you, finding you to be intelligent and cunning."

Daphne sat back in her chair now and after scrunching her nose briefly she continued on, "I got my first glimpse of the new mysterious Harry Potter at the Yule Ball. While I know less about you than I probably should have, through our first few years here, I just had not been interested. If you were likable I couldn't be friends with you because of darling Draco. If you were as bad as some painted, then I had no interest. It was lose-lose as far as I was concerned," Daphne shrugged, not concerned with her admittance while Harry waited for her to get to the substance.

"Then I start getting to know you and learnt about all... this," she indicated their surroundings. "You present me with a _priceless_ locket that lets me learn from Salazar Slytherin's ritual library and are the only political option for us. Our family was going to stay neutral with plans to flee, abandoning our home and chances at breaking the curse on our family."

"And it's not just that," she growled and threw up her hands. "You have a _Pavlov_ interested in you. You have the Delacour Heiress chasing after you, one that is impossibly beautiful and incredibly talented. Natalia herself has excellent grades _and_ is an exceptional dancer. Both are so beautiful, are foreign, have accents, and...ugh!"

She crossed her arms and let out a frustrated sigh. "But I tried, tried to compete with them. I dressed to get your attention. I spent as much time down here as I could. I tried to make what you wanted to happen, happen! I worked on Natalia and then Fleur after it was clear how miserable you were without her." As she said this last part, annoyance flashed in her eyes.

"I found you a _horcrux_, a legendary item that _nobody_ had seen for _centuries," _pride shone on her face as she brought up that immense accomplishment, "but what did I get for it?! Nothing!" Another heavy breath left out her nostrils and the annoyance that had been in her eyes, earlier, turned to anger.

"I threw myself at you! I degraded myself and acted like a wanton _whore!"_ she hissed, her knuckles whitening as her fingers dug into her arms. "And what did you do?!" She asked, her eyes ablaze. "You barely acknowledged my work and put me off! Again!" She stood up now and towered over him. "I'd done what Susan and Hannah suggested! I made it so bloody clear that even a brute could understand! Then what do you do? You go and fuck Fleur the _very. Next. night!"_

"You didn't even have the balls to reject the offer you fucking spat on! You left me hanging for an _entire_ day. When I come to find you, after you weren't around in the morning, nor at lunch, I find Fleur. The bloody little miss perfect french veela sitting in Salazar's study reading a _parseltongue_ book!"

Daphne stomped her heel and threw her hands to her side, clenching her fist, and, for just a moment, Harry wondered if Daphne was going to hit him. It seemed so unlike her but this was pushing Daphne past her limits.

"Then you berate my friends, proposition them, and then storm off?!" She shook her head and glared at him. She huffed in annoyance and abruptly turned and threw herself down into the chair. "I've never dated Harry. I don't know what to do and I _couldn't_ get your attention. I didn't know what to do so I just did what you would have wanted."

There was a caveat there that Harry almost rolled his eyes at, but he was worried how Daphne would take that. She had worked to his benefit but never sacrificed what she wanted to get it.

"I get it, now, Daphne," Harry started gently. "I've apologized for it but I didn't know if you were trying to entice me, just for the benefits of a union for your family, or whether you liked me. If you'd just _told me, _this wouldn't have happened the way it did."

Daphne's eyes narrowed and she didn't give up glaring at him, clearly not mollified.

"So where does this leave us?" Harry asked after the conversation had lulled into silence.

"I don't know Harry…"

At this point, Harry didn't know what to think or feel for Daphne. It sounded like their issues stemmed from poor communication. He would have been open to her advances had she made it known that she liked him, the teenager, not the wizarding icon.

Fleur and he were a package deal now. You were not going to get one without the other. Per Veela traditions, they were already married. Normally, Apolline had informed him that that ritual is usually completed on the honeymoon, not before a betrothal agreement had even been signed. Slughorn was going to complete the previous negotiations but there was little to do there. Both parties were keen on it and the only sticking point was the progeny from their union. Patrice wanted the second daughter to be a backup heiress for both of their families.

This would lead to the largest issue of where they are educated, more than anything else. Constantly visiting the Delacour home wasn't going to be an issue. He planned to spend more time there, after graduating, and could not imagine Fleur and he not visiting regularly. Harry wanted a family and the Delacour's were rapidly becoming that, more so than he had ever experienced before. While he had even begun to bond with Fleur's younger sister, he hadn't even officially met Daphne's.

This was the type of contrast was that he'd felt had been missing between them. Fleur's family was warm and inviting. Whereas Daphne's had been cold, clinical, and kept things more distant, at the personal level. Perhaps it was just the differences in culture or the way the family functioned, but it was something that hadn't made him as comfortable with Daphne.

"Are we going to the ball together still?" Harry blurted out the question, he wanted to know if he needed a new date or find out what she was thinking, for going forward. "I can find someone else but we were going together and I'd get if you didn't want that anymore…" He gave a half-hearted smile and awaited her answer.

Daphne opened her mouth but didn't start speaking right away. She pressed her lips together and then decided upon what to say. "We can go...together," she stated slowly, her eyebrows scrunching.

"Okay," Harry said, unsure of what she was trying to say. "You're wanting to give this, us, a try?"

"I do," Daphne admitted with a small voice. "I like you, Susan and Hannah do, even with your recent issue. I'd rather pursue something I think I can be happy with than risk having future generations to be tied to something they may not like too."

"And you are good with Fleur being around, Natalia too if it comes to that?" Harry asked. He'd always been somewhat worried about that.

"I think so," Daphne said. "I think we all fit around each other."

"How so?"

"Well," Daphne began, sitting forward and dropping her chin slightly as she began to explain, "Natalia's pursuit is ballet. She can have a long and fruitful career because she's a witch. If she wanted, she could do it well into her eighties, possibly longer," Daphne mused.

"Myself, I'm more inclined towards business and politics. It is where I've enjoyed learning and you'll need someone with that. Not that I'm gainsaying Fleur and Natalia's political acuity; both of them are more than adept while not having a passion for it."

"Fleur is too action-oriented and, I suspect, she'll follow you around as neither of you will be happy relaxing and living off your laurels."

"Do you think the three of you could be with me?" Harry asked, somewhat skeptically. "I still get flashbacks to the Yule Ball and have a hard time seeing Fleur and Natalia together.

Daphne shrugged in an uncharacteristic type of move for her. "You won't know 'till you try."

"I've had Natalia sleep with me twice, _just_ _sleep_, and I don't even know how I'd handle if she wanted to do that again right now. Fleur will want to spend every night with me and I just need to tell her no or schedule specific nights? Like I'll need to create a schedule, or we'd all have to share?" Both eyebrows lifted and his voice wasn't convinced of that option in the least.

"Ah no. There will be no sleeping in the same room as you and another woman having sex. Silencing spells, or not. I can respect that it happens but I'll sleep with no-one other than my husband," Daphne said primly.

"That's not an issue. I wouldn't suggest it. It'd be awkward," Harry grimaced as he thought about that. Wouldn't it be weird to have sex with two others in the same room, or bed, that had no interest in partaking?

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to think of such things.

"Where do we go from here, then?" Harry asked Daphne, she always had plans.

"We proceed like normal, don't we?" Daphne asked rhetorically. "I like you and you like me. We both want to explore what we could be but don't know if it will work. Isn't this the exact point of dating?" Daphne asked with a smirk and mischievous glint in her eye.

"We'd get to know each other that way too," Harry agreed, liking this course of action.

"I can put this behind me provided you _never_ do something like that again."

"Other than Natalia, I don't think there is anything else even on the horizon at all," Harry stated with a roll of his eyes. He'd have to be more cognizant of how each action with one of the girls could impact the others but that was something he should do anyway, especially if he wanted this to work.

"Though we don't have a ton of time…" Harry remarked after he had begun considering what it will be like to date Daphne too.

"You're going to have to work for it if you want that. I know the effect is muted if you aren't a virgin." Daphne stated. "You've missed your opportunity to show you'd put me first."

Harry nodded slowly. Things had been repaired between them. Their relationship had taken a couple of steps back but it wasn't bad. There was a fault in the foundation. With clear communication now they could build to something. If Harry had just gone ahead and shagged her, he would have assumed this was all business.

It wasn't. And that was a good thing.

"Don't you have to go meet with father, Slughorn, and Delacour now?" Daphne asked, looking up from the book she was studying.

Harry cast a quick tempus and noticed he did indeed have to leave, "Yeah, thanks. I'll be going now then."

Harry strode away but Daphne called out his name as he was about to exit the office.

"Just one more thing," she said and the look in her eyes worried Harry.

"I modified it a bit but I think you'll find this meets the dress code down here?" She asked, taking off her robe to reveal what was underneath.

There wasn't all that much. Daphne had only a black thong covering her lower body. On her upper body, there was what looked to be a modified quidditch jersey. As Daphne spun on the spot he was able to pull his eyes away from her shapely arse long enough to see his name and number on the back. It was a jersey but it had been tailored to dip down the chest, be skin tight, and no longer reach the length it should have.

"Don't you have to be going now, Harry?" The devilish minx asked, a coy smile on her face as she bit her finger. The pose must be something she had practiced because it was too alluring to be natural.

"Try to stay focused and not think of little ol' me sitting down here _studying_ by the _oh so very hot_ fireplace," she went and sat back down, making sure to exaggerate her movements.

"See ya around," Harry said as he turned on his heels. Women, the source of such pain and pleasure. As much as they were, at times, _difficult,_ he'd not even consider living without them. Daphne had known exactly how this was going to go. She'd planned her outfit just so she could tease him more than she'd ever done before.

She might have been re-sorted into Hufflepuff but there was no doubt that the girl was a born Slytherin...

What a minx.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> Thanks to Léna2905 & Gab for the french help! Thanks to Nauze & Triage for the beta work!
> 
> Another chapter in the books. Thanks for reading & commenting!


	45. Heated Encounters

"Potter men certainly know how to pick them," McGonagall said, her eyes not straying from the work Fleur and Flitwick were doing.

Harry smirked as he watched her continue to be put through the paces. The diminutive professor had tested her sensing and was now having her throw every sort of spell she knew at the man.

Flitwick was practically glowing with happiness as he casually neutralized every spell sent at him. Fleur's face was a study of frustration. Her eyebrows knit together from the fury of her inability at doing anything other than provide enjoyment for the seasoned duelist.

"Very good, Miss Delacour, very good indeed!" he praised. Fleur's scowl didn't abate in the least.

"She reminds me of your mother, you know," Harry's chin whipped around to look at the aged transfiguration professor. "Not in looks… more, her spirit." Harry crinkled his eyebrows and paid close attention.

"She's skilled, determined, and fiery…it just reminds me of Lily. Top of her year with the makings of a formidable witch," she paused and watched with fondness in her eyes. "But you weren't asking about that, now were you?"

"No professor, but I appreciate it all the same," Harry said in a way of a reply.

"Elemental transfiguration is not for the faint of heart and is a blending of Charms and Transfiguration. Albus, himself, has a difficult time replicating his usual results with elements. Grindelwald was better at it, though his version was almost all charms work."

"But Dumbledore was the transfiguration master…"

"Yes, but in the branch of elemental manipulation, Grindelwald was more skilled. Maginot Rouge being a prime example." There was some distaste in her using that example. "Conjuring an element and using it to the same degree as what Albus is capable of, isn't within either man's skillsets. Only those with a potent affinity would, theoretically, be capable of doing something similar to what Albus does," she pursed her lips as she thought for a moment.

"Pure-blooded Veela are known for their manipulation of fire and creating avian-type creatures with it, leading to the misconception of them being able to throw fire. Their ability to manipulate fire is often considered prodigious, however, their lack of a strong foci means they aren't known for their strength beyond their affinity."

"I didn't know they had issues with magical foci?" Harry frowned as he thought about what he knew about veela and wands. Fleur's wand had a hair from her grandmother...but he didn't know anything else.

"You'd have to ask Ollivander if you wanted to learn more. I just know there aren't any Transfiguration Masters that are full-blooded Veela. This was the reason I was given and what I have learned since," Harry nodded, there was no recrimination or prejudice from his professor.

"But let us get back on task. It is easier to take existing elements and shape them to your will. Grindelwald took the very weather and used the existing precipitation to shape and alter an existing storm. In the same way, you'd see Albus take existing statues or debris and transfigure them into the creations he's famous for," McGonagall patiently explained.

"So why is it more difficult?" Harry was highly intrigued now.

"Power is one major reason," she stated as she began lecturing on the topic, though Harry could tell she was excited about the topic. "Primarily, conjuration isn't taught until NEWT levels; it's magically intensive."

"So if you had enough power, you'd be able to conjure your water and then use it? Theoretically speaking, of course." Harry qualified his question and the corners of her mouth tighten.

"That...is difficult to say. I can conjure water or throw out fire, shape it, charm it, and control it. But I can't do it as well with conjured water or fire."

"Why...not?" Harry asked attentively after an abbreviated arrestation.

"It is hard to explain. A lack of practice is possible. Perhaps it is because the conjured element is too excited by magic?"

"Like how you were trying to explain why it's so difficult to make transfigurations as strong as the Headmaster's?" Harry said, prodding for further explanation.

McGonagall gazed at Harry and pursed her lips while doing so. "Magic isn't science. While there are rules, you will find solid boundaries become blurry as you advance. What is possible for Albus, is not for other masters of the art. What was possible for Grindelwald, is not something others are capable of repeating."

"Magic is not something anyone will ever fully understand. Even how I was taught and how I performed were not always what Albus did, and it is the same with you. You have your own _flavour_ of magic, for lack of a better word. While I lack the power of the Headmaster, there are areas of transfiguration where I excel beyond him, and it's not from lack of talent or effort." There was some pride in her final words.

Harry took in the words and let them percolate in his mind, letting it steep in his mind, running the ideas through his brain, like coffee on a stove. It was something that had been on his mind recently. He wasn't going to match Dumbledore in transfiguration. Harry doubted he would ever be as skilled as Flitwick at detecting and neutralizing magic. It just wasn't how he was wired.

This idea of having a magical flavour… That was an appealing prospect.

It was obvious that he now had a flair for fire-based magic. Could _this _be his unique flavour that he becomes known for? How would that even work?

Would he have to make fire constructs that were animated elementals? Fire, while good and strong, had clear weaknesses. He couldn't be a master of fire manipulation and then stand alongside Dumbledore. A statue of stone would wreck and destroy him. Using water, ice or earth would put it out.

If fire was going to be his differentiation, it couldn't be _just_ fire. It had to be more.

"There are quirks of magic that I doubt anyone will ever understand. Magic isn't always predictable and that aspect is most often seen at the heights of it. What You-Know-Who was able to accomplish was not something he was able to teach to his sycophants. What Albus can achieve isn't something that he has been able to teach to anyone else, and it's not from lack of magic."

Was this why Slytherin hadn't included any of his powerful spells? Was there something about Harry, specifically, that would allow him a unique sort of magical prowess, prowess that others were simply unable to repeat? It would make some sense. What Slytherin was able to achieve was due to him and his magic. Having completed a vastly different ritual set, perhaps the spellwork would be achievable.

"I believe you'll be able to do much of what Albus is able to accomplish, though I'm not sure your flavour is going to be transfiguration. You are talented but not preeminently so."

Harry scratched the back of his head as he accepted that. It was an honest reflection and not critical of him or his effort. Anytime he had ever slacked off around her, she'd been a brutal taskmaster, not that Harry had any sort of habit of doing so in his private lessons.

"Flitwick believes you could do much of what he is capable of, though he believes it would be a disservice to try and emulate him fully."

"You've been talking with Professor Flitwick about a style for me?" Harry asked his head turning back to watch Fleur's exercises with the other professor. The diminutive man was putting Fleur through the wringer. It was a style of exercise that Harry hadn't enjoyed but had grown to greatly appreciate. Filius was amazing at pushing you consistently just beyond your boundaries, forcing you to continue to reach and grasp to keep up to the lofty standards he kept his exercises at. And, if he thought you were doing anything less than your utmost, he'd get sadistic and start making his spells hurt.

"Of course. Your father was a transfiguration specialist and Lily had a way of putting up overwhelming offence or defence. Sirius was one of the most creative duelists I have seen, consistently finding ways to use spells that were equally as bizarre as they were effective."

Harry's face lit up at hearing more comments about his parents. He was sure that McGonagall was trying to impart as much as she could whenever she had the opportunity to do so in private. "What about Remus and Peter?" Harry's lips pinched towards his scrunched nose upon saying the last name.

"Remus due to his...condition...was always more physical and defensive. He used his quick wit to defend and often box in opponents. When the four fought together, their contrasting styles covered and worked in coordination well, frighteningly so," she gave a quick shake of her head before answering the final part. "Peter wasn't as skilled, but the young man could pick his spots. He'd never be at the forefront, never taking the brunt of it, nor doling it out. Instead, he'd spot weak points and capitalize them. He might only use a couple of spells but they were always on target and normally impossible to defend, even if they had seen it coming."

"I don't think any of those styles are for me, professor," Harry said as he absently fiddled with his wand, rolling between his fingers.

"I'm not telling you this because I believe you should emulate any of them. Fleur just reminded me of your mother. Even restricted, you can see her tenacity and the defence she's putting up. I expected this to have ended already. You see how she's in trouble and yet manages to get a burst of spells out?"

Harry caught what McGonagall was pointing out. Flitwick had her on the ropes, her body off balance, unable to dodge, her wand positioned awkwardly, and then he had sent rapid spellfire all around her. Fleur had, miraculously, managed to get her wand back in position to defend; had shielded, avoided, or neutralized the incoming barrage. It wasn't hard to see it had taken a toll on her, but her inner fire kept her competing until she no longer could.

"She's impressive, a charms mastery will be in her future."

"Did you two have any thoughts as to what my style could be?" Harry queried, tilting his head as he focused back on her.

"No, though I find your sudden fascination for elemental transfiguration..._interesting_. Filius commented on how _fiery_ your magic felt." McGonagall fixed him a piercing gaze and lifted her eyebrows ever so slightly.

Harry grinned then shrugged. "I might have discovered a...latent fire affinity?" He knew she wasn't buying it but gave the cheeky reply anyways.

"Yes, one neither your _muggleborn_ mother had nor any previous generations of Potter," she arched her eyebrow. "Perhaps it has something to do with those rituals you are dabbling in and Miss Delacour?"

"Sounds...plausible," Harry said, continuing to grin as McGonagall's face softened.

"I'm glad, she's a remarkable young woman. Madame Maxime has nothing but praise for her."

Harry tried not to think about how his cheeks gained a red hue rapidly. "I'm glad you think so."

"I'm certain your parents would have approved and loved her."

Harry shut his eyes for a second and breathed out. "Th-thanks, professor," his green eyes found hers as he'd spoken. While they were still locked, she continued.

"Dorea would've adored her and Charlus would've been ecstatic she's a Delacour," McGonagall reached forward and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I've been very impressed with you this year. We had wondered if you were ever going to apply yourself and you've surpassed the expectations."

Harry gave a faint smile. "Did the Headmaster initiate all this training or had you two wanted to do it?" Harry's fingers fidgeted while awaiting the response.

"Albus requested we consider it," McGonagall began to respond and clarified further upon seeing Harry's frown. "However, neither of us would consider doing one-on-one lessons if we, ourselves, did not consider it first."

Harry had to clasp his hands together, his fingers had become too agitated as he mentally debated asking a follow-up question. "Does Dumbledore ask for reports on my progress?"

The Deputy Headmistress turned his attention back from the other two occupants and appraised him with a look. "As the Headmaster, he is ultimately responsible for all instruction in the school and by its faculty. If you are learning within the walls of this castle, he is entitled to know about it. With that said, neither of us have given extremely detailed information, nor would either of us divulge anything said in confidence. Be wary if you are trying to hide a skill, he is Albus Dumbledore and has a knack for knowing things you may not expect him to."

Harry nodded and understood the message. They weren't spying on him but he should assume Dumbledore was aware of what he was being taught.

"It is time we get started, let's begin with seeing your elemental transfiguration of fire."

Harry dipped his head as he stood up, withdrew his wand and began showing what he was just beginning to learn what he may now be capable of.

"Show me three different transfigurations and I want them hardened against physical and magical attacks."

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. He was going to try for difficult animations. Already he'd been thinking up of ways that creatures made of fire could be useful in attacks. He wanted something that would strike fear into his enemies and had come up with a couple of ideas.

The first creature, born of fire, was the smallest and most agile one: a miniature dragon. Harry didn't know if it was possible, but, if he could figure out a way to make it breathe fire...that'd be unreal.

With only a swish of his wand, his creation was born of fire, a dragon whose flesh was _fire _instead of sinew, muscle and bones.

McGonagall launched a few spells at it and the dragon's animation spellwork allowed it to act out as a real dragon. It dodged, ducked, dipped, and dove the first four and rolled over the fifth. The sixth hit it dead on, but the magic held and wasn't so easily disrupted.

While this had been going on, Harry created his second creature of fire. Two flaming horns stood over seven feet off the ground. Large hands held a gargantuan two-handed axe. The hulking torso and arms of a man with the head and lower body of a bull. Harry's Minotaur made of fire was an imposing creature and took a noticeable amount of magical power to conjure.

Harry allowed himself to smirk at the raising of McGonagall's eyebrow, the only noticeable change upon seeing the creature.

"Is that...practical?" The disbelief in her voice was palpable.

"It's intimidating. Imagine that beast bearing down on someone and bringing that giant battle-axe down on them," Harry grinned and stepped back from his creation. A being of fire that large sure gave off a lot of heat.

"And when they douse it with water or impact it with rocks or dirt?" The proficient professor transfigured a desk into a stone tiger and had it maul the minotaur.

The tiger pounced at the Minotaur but Harry's creature was deft on its hooves. After neatly sidestepping the stone animation, it's strong arms whirled the axe head around and brought it down on the neck of the grey tiger.

Instead of the axe decapitating the creature, it only bit in a few inches before it broke apart and unravelled the magic holding the minotaur together.

The seasoned professor must have expected it, as she already had a shield ready before the fire broke apart and burned itself out.

Harry frowned but was pleased his first and third creations were still alive and burning. He'd brought a magnificent stag to life just before the stone tiger had been created, Prongs.

Instead of the lecture he was sure he'd been about to receive, McGonagall held her hand over her mouth, her eyes blank and unfocused, looking at the third animation. "James," she whispered.

Harry's lips curved into a fond smile as he waited. As he looked at his elemental transfiguration and just enjoyed its form. While his patronus had the same shape, this one felt different. This was his choice, the stag of fire was his method of honouring his father.

"As you saw with the minotaur, your elemental transfiguration has the same issues that have plagued all that had come before you. Namely, fire against water and stone will cause your creation to be overpowered and come apart," McGonagall returned to her natural lecturing visage.

"Would more power or precision not fix it?" Harry asked. He'd just begun to experiment and formulate plans that he'd foreseen as having real potential.

She smiled thinly, "Again, if elemental transfiguration was a strong pursuit, you'd have heard of practitioners throughout history. Not only can your transfigurations be used against you, by breaking apart the spells, but their natural weakness to opposing elements are too problematic. A strong water conjuration charm can overpower a mastery level fire elemental transfiguration."

Harry frowned and didn't respond immediately. The idea of having a fifteen-foot flaming minotaur, towering over the battlefield and wreaking havoc with its gigantic two-handed axe, had been what he pictured in his head. Having its fire burn so hot that water didn't concern it at all, that it could burn away the hexes and curses cast at it, and force everyone's attention and focus to it.

"The issue is with the element itself then; that the fire has weaknesses? Wouldn't creating a better version of fire fix it then?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It is possible Fiendfyre was an attempt to do such a thing, as its creation is lost to history; however, I cannot be clear enough on this. Attempting to combine Fiendfyre and Elemental Transfiguration will _not_ work. It has been tried over and over again, with disastrous results."

Harry nodded but didn't let it deter him. He already has a line on special fire. "What about dragon fire?"

"It does have some magical properties…" McGonagall admitted. "Though, I don't expect it would be as strong as you'd believe. Wards, temporary and permanent, are known for containing dragons."

Harry narrowed his eyes in thought. Cuddle's fire had regularly worn through those wards. "Don't they wear out quickly?" Harry asked with a furrowed forehead.

"Not that I'm aware of. Certainly, there would be routine maintenance but they build them to last."

Harry had always known Cuddles' fire was special. He'd never been able to conjure it. It was even surprising, to him, that he could multiply and control it.

"Can you just focus on hardening your stag against magic for now? I'd like to see how it stands up."

Harry dispelled the current stag and took a moment to concentrate as he let it shimmer then fade out. Closing his eyes, he focused, gathered all the intent he could muster, hardened his willpower, and put as much power into the magic as he was able. He opened his eyes and took in the redone stag.

The former stag had been a deeper red, a cheery red, and was wreathed in those darker fire. Whereas, the new one was visibility hotter. The fire was lighter, whiter, blazing. Though its colour change hadn't impressed the transfiguration professor as of yet.

McGonagall began pelting it with lighter spells and Harry was unsurprised that it held up. When she moved onto more potent spellwork, only her eyebrows raising towards her hairline changed on her expression.

"Moving on..." McGonagall had the stone tiger come and take a swipe at it. Stone met stag and, this time failed to pierce the magic. Harry's lips curved upward and his eyes brightened with hope. He watched as the tiger brought its jaws to bear on the closer hind leg, and though its jaws clamped with frightening force, it failed to pierce the transfiguration.

"Let's see how long it holds," McGonagall said with a clipped tone, her narrowed eyes never straying from the action.

Second after second ticked by, and the spitting image of Prongs burned ever brightly. The professor clicked her tongue and with a tight motion flicked her wand, calling off the tiger. As the beast stalked away, a thick viscous liquid crawled out of its mouth and dropped to the floor.

Harry's eyes snapped to it and he couldn't help but smirk. Molten rock was now rapidly cooling on the stone floor of Hogwarts, a small trail of it led to the tiger's misshapen mouth.

"Your affinity must be strong; the tiger was damage resistant," her words made sense to Harry, his minotaur should have been able to cut through regular stone. "But there is much to do now. Testing the limits, working on the speed, strength, size, and number of creatures you can keep up."

Harry felt the excitement bubble within him, it wasn't, _yet_, what he'd pictured in his mind. A battlefield dominating fifteen-foot badass tanking minotaur that would disrupt and dominate a conflict but it was the beginning of a path to explore that may lead to the loft goals he had set out to achieve.

Elemental transfiguration would be something unique. He'd imagined a white-hot beast wreathed in flames, axe hefted over its shoulder as it walked with determination through an ice storm on the hills of France, burning away the ice storm and laughing at the pesky lightning. A dragon hidden, flying through the clouds, awaiting to descend upon the man who'd dare to attempt to subjugate another country of magicals. All the while, with Harry advancing behind his fearsome creatures, prepared to defend his new family's countrymen, and drive away the menacing figure manipulating the abating storm.

It wasn't there yet, but, maybe he could get there.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Though they were meeting in the same place as last time, watching the same thing, it felt different now. Harry was more confident and felt he had a purpose and a plan forward. The negotiations between his advisors and the Pavlov family had concluded; Harry pressuring them to just get it done had certainly brought a swift conclusion to things.

In his hand was the magical betrothal agreement for Natalia. He'd signed with Ackerly having approved it and Patrice Delacour as a witness. His name on it would be a show of acceptance, approval even, of the decision. It hadn't been an easy conversation with Fleur but she'd resigned herself to it prior to fully committing to Harry.

The agreement hadn't resolved everything. There were still going to be many details to work out. Magically, Harry and Fleur were married, in the Veela traditions. According to the English and French Ministries of Magic, they were, officially, only betrothed. Natalia would be joining Fleur, officially, and then, in the future, they would be getting married. Who would be first, whether would it be jointly done, or even where it would happen, hadn't been discussed.

This was an agreement for _future_ political alignment, economic cooperation and, most importantly, for Harry, support for the upcoming conflict. Though the Pavlov family hadn't been given the full knowledge, as the Delacour's had been prior to their union, Harry wasn't naive enough to believe they didn't know it was inevitable.

Harry took a quick second to breathe deeply and then he opened the doors. The ballet practice was in full swing already and there was a sole occupant three quarts of the way to the back in the set of seats to the right of centre, but not along the wall. Harry recognized it as Ivan Pavlov.

The steps blurred together as Harry made his way to the elder man who may become his family. After a quick exchange of greetings, and the casting of privacy spells, they were sitting a chair apart and both watching the stage. Harry's eyes drifted across all the dancers until he found Natalia, then, they stayed glued on her.

"I've spent time talking, my wife and I both, about our last conversation. We found great irony in that it was her passion and bullheaded stubbornness that has brought an appropriate match for her," he shook his head slowly and dipped his chin. "All of our efforts wasted and the partial estrangement of our daughter was for nought," he gave a dark hollow chuckle as he shook his head once more.

"It's the parents prerogative to push the child. To want to see her be taken care of and succeed. Her understanding of the world is still lacking. Her desires and dreams of a girl. As one matures and comes into their own, priorities shift and the direction your parents provided begins to resonate, making sense, retrospectively."

That made sense, though it was a bit of a foreign concept to him. Dumbledore, before this year, was the only one to impart such advice, however little.

Ivan switched his attention to the papers that Harry had placed on the seat between them. He tapped it with his wand, which Harry had missed him withdrawing, and then remarked, "Your solicitor's seal," he murmured, nodding to himself. "I'll have our solicitor check it over before we complete it."

Harry turned his attention back to the stage as Ivan was paging through the agreement. He watched Natalia be coached on a specific motion, the variation between what she was doing and supposed to be doing was lost on him. The nuances of ballet were simply beyond him.

Harry couldn't help but wonder if this was the right step, even now. Fleur talked a good game, that this was fine and she could handle it, but his gut told him 'her fine' and 'his fine' wouldn't be the same.

But, at the end of the day, it was his decision and something she was well aware of as an expected outcome. Besides, the man beside him would play a key role in his upcoming plan, the one he still hadn't told his advisors he was going through with. Fleur would back him and he'd call in the debt to Viktor. The closer he came to it, the more he was convinced of its necessity.

"Practice is ending and I don't believe my presence is needed; I'll leave you and Natalia on your own. But, before I leave you with my daughter, did Horace make any headway into your _former_ friend, Miss Granger's curious departure?"

Harry's neck whipped around and he scrutinized the elder man, who was looking back at him impassively. "I'll take your silence as no." He stood up now and slipped the contract into the interior of his coat.

"I had to look into it. My wife wouldn't have had it any other way. Your _inseparable _friend suddenly bolts for America," he shook his head and pursed his lips. "It wouldn't have been right of us to contract our daughter to someone that may have done something to drive her away."

Harry grit his teeth. He knew the man was dragging it out for his amusement. His voice a lazy drawl with enough not so hidden smugness, just enough to let Harry know he knew how his words would affect him.

"Imagine my surprise when I found out she left, supposedly, for her own protection and the _future_ safety of her family," he sneered the last word.

"And you found out who was responsible for that?" Harry asked, trying to keep his obvious interest somewhat veiled.

"Perhaps," Ivan's deep voice rumbled out. "I know who I believe to be responsible, though no indisputable evidence will ever be found."

Harry's eyes didn't leave Ivan's and the muscles of his body tightened of their own accord.

"Cyrus Greengrass is the one I suspect, having assisted others who fled the Blood War, to America. He'd have the motive, funds and connections."

Ivan placed his large hand on Harry's shoulder and looked down at the seated teen. "I'll contact Horace once things are looked over," he released his hold on Harry and walked out of the row. He halted his motion and turned to look back at Harry, shook his head and then exited.

Harry let out a deep breath and felt his body relax. Talking with Ivan was always a nerve-wracking experience. He had to be so guarded and cautious in what he said and showed. He could feel his heart rate lower and the tension falling off his shoulders.

Horace hadn't made a lot of headway, but now Harry was wondering about the veracity of his fact-finding mission. Were the Pavlovs trying to get him to doubt one of his stalwart allies or had they found out the truth of the matter?

Harry groaned as he slumped back into his seat, running his hand over his face then rubbing his forehead. He had just sorted things out with Daphne and didn't need a complication thrown back into their tentative restart.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. This wasn't something he could sort out right now and the annoyed Triwizard Champion could tell Natalia's session was just about to end. Not even a few minutes later, Natalia was bounding up the aisle and wrapping Harry up in a hug.

"Daddy told me things had been worked out! I'm _so_ happppy!" she exclaimed into his shoulder, not relenting her tight grip on him. Upon releasing him, she pushed up on her tippy toes and pressed her lips into his. After the short sweet kiss, she grabbed his hand but had only backed up a few inches and was still faced toward him.

"Let's get out of here; are you ready to go?" Harry inspected her attire and noticed all he could see were tight-fitting pants, or leggings, of some sort, and a pullover, hiding whatever she had on underneath.

"Yes, did you have anywhere in mind?"

Harry considered that as he started moving, Natalia pivoted out of his way and fell into step with him, their hands still connected. "Not really, the usual walk in the park was about all that I had in mind."

Natalia's soft smile was answer enough and they shortly found themselves treading along a familiar path.

As they walked, with no words being spoken, Harry's thoughts fell into the familiar pattern of counting each step. Un, deux, et, trois, keeping the four-part counting, instead of the asinine three-fold repetition.

"You seem...quiet," Harry stated, not yet sure on what was up with her. She'd been practically vibrating when she had first hugged him and then had become silent and withdrawn, not that she'd physically pulled her hand back from holding his.

"It's...just...a lot," Natalia began, her voice slow and unsure. "I know we had talked about having sex before the contract, signing the courting contract, and other options, with Daphne, but you didn't go for any of them…."

She hung her words out, inviting Harry to explain. He'd not written in their journal about it, nor had they talked about it.

"I thought about it and considered what would be gained by following the plan we had talked about. It just didn't offer enough upside and opened me up to a fair bit of downside."

"Oh," Natalia said, looking at the ground. "I th-thought you may not have wanted to...after being with Fleur."

Harry came to an immediate stop and used his grip on her hand to pull her into him. He gently grabbed her chin, with just his forefinger and thumb, and waited until her eyes rose to meet his. "Don't think like that. This whole situation is messed up. I'm a Potter, a Black. A prodigy, the supposed successor to Dumbledore. I'm an evil parselmouth and the next coming of You-Know-Who. Every day, people shove their expectations on me and accept or reject what they see of me, versus the image they expect me to portray."

"If you were Natalia No-name, and I was Harry Different-no-name, then we could've danced at the Yule Ball, kissed out in the gardens and become boyfriend and girlfriend. Without pressure and expectations, we could've gotten engaged and married in a lovely and _normal _life," he sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

Grasping both of Natalia's hands, after turning to face each other, Harry continued, "When I'm with you, I feel normal. Like we're just two teens going for a walk in the park," he paused and grinned at his lame line that elicited a weak giggle from Natalia.

"I mean, with Fleur, it's kind of hard to not see her as the almost unattainable princess. She's ethereal in her beauty and lives in a house that barely fits that word." Harry's head dropped, he closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I grew up in a _cupboard_. I didn't have my own set of clothes until I got my Hogwarts robes…" Harry shook his head for and released a deep breath. "I love Fleur, and her family, but sometimes it feels surreal, too surreal. Like at some point, I'm just going to wake back up under the cupboard and hope a spider visits me so I'm not just lying in the dark all by myself, night after night."

Natalia stepped forward and closed the distance between them, her arms wrapped around Harry and she just held him. "I'd read your home life was expected to be neglectful but not like that."

Harry shrugged. "Nobody really knows," Harry admitted.

"I don't understand, though," Natalia began in a small voice, allowing some space between their bodies, "Fleur and I are similar. The Pavlov and Delacour families are upper class, and not even modestly so."

Harry laughed, though not callously or mockingly, "And look at you. A sweater that's plain with some old tights put on. Some small diamond stud earrings and a thin necklace. You have chosen to study ballet and work incredibly hard at doing so. You might have manipulated things to some degree but you could have made your life a whole lot easier."

Harry's green eyes bore into Natalia and the features of his face were like stone. "How many others did your parents suggest? How many options did you have to live a quiet, privileged life, where all you would need to do would be to get along with your match and do whatever you wanted?"

Harry didn't need her to verbalize the answer. Slughorn had already educated him. There would have been over a dozen viable candidates within only a couple years of her age. If they had waited until she was older, then it would have been even greater. Likewise, Fleur had extensive prospects and Daphne would have had some, though nowhere near to the same degree. The Greengrass family is well thought of and connected, but it wasn't in the same league as the other two, nor was their lack of birthing multiple heirs helpful.

"Instead, you went after something you love. You may have been given the best of tutors, but it was only your work ethic and insistence to continue that made you into such a skilled dancer. Many others could have been given the opportunity and never amounted to what you have."

Natalia closed the gap between them again and gave him a crushing hug. Her arms clung around him desperately and her head nuzzled into his chest. There was no immediate sign of her being willing to relinquish her hold on him, and it wasn't long before Harry could hear she was quietly crying.

Harry brought his one arm up, lifting off her back, and he began to run his fingers along and through her hair. Gently, he continued to pat her head. This wasn't the response he had expected. A declaration of love, a reciprocation of her admiration of him, or even just Natalia telling him that she loved Harry.

Instead of something he would have guessed, he had a crying girl in his arms. Hopefully, these were tears of happiness, though he didn't know if they were as of yet.

"Natalia?"

The girl in question looked up, tear stains on her cheeks. "I love you, Harry. I hope you know that," she said in a quiet voice that broke a little as she spoke.

Harry nodded and let the simple action be his response. He wanted to believe it but anything to do with the Pavlov family had an addendum attached. It was such a delicate dance. Every time they stepped together, he had to question. Was it routine, was it with a hidden purpose, or were they just enjoying the moment and each other's company?

Life wasn't forthcoming with answers. Harry had been learning to listen to his instincts, do his best at all things and learn from the inevitable mistakes and consequences that came with them.

"Your family knows I'm doing rituals?"

"Yes," she said, her head buried in his chest again, so it came out as little more than a mumble.

"One of the terms is their acceptance that I want you to participate in a ritual that requires you to be a virgin." It wasn't an awkward topic to broach but a necessary one. "You must also be a willing participant, your body, and your magic," Harry clarified, his chin tucked into his chest as he looked down at the ballerina he held in his arms.

"Th-that's fine."

"I just thought you should know," It gnawed at him that he wasn't disclosing this to her. If the ritual was to be believed, all her loyalties would be shifted to him, permanently. She could be beholden to no other over him. What that looked like practically, he didn't know.

"Wh-when would it be?" The earlier emotional display was still affecting the Dursmstrang student.

"Once the contract is signed. Tomorrow, in a few days, or eight days from now are all options. It can't be held off too long, as I can only do so many rituals and I'm on a set schedule."

"Did you do it with Fleur too?" Of all the questions Harry expected, he didn't think this would be what she asked. Did she not care about what effects it might have on her? Perhaps she trusted him enough to not believe he would do anything purposefully harmful to her.

"A ritual yes, but not this one. Only _you _will end up doing it."

Natalia finally unlatched her arms and looked up at him with big eyes. "Can we go and sit on the bench together? I'd like that."

Harry gave her a reassuring smile and responded, "Of course."

Instead of having more questions about the ritual, it appeared Natalia was mollified to know it was something special, just for her. He was treating both of them, equally, one ritual each, and that appeared to be enough for her.

Upon sitting, Natalia cuddled into Harry and the two stayed seated, enjoying each other's embrace on this cloudy night. It reminded Harry of how quiet and shy she was when they were first getting to know each other, in this park, after dancing together.

"Did you want to take turns asking questions again?" Harry asked, some mirth in his voice.

Instead of answering, Natalia surprised Harry and asked the first question. "Do you plan on adding Daphne, too?"

Harry immediately regretted opening this up, not really, but Natalia wasn't opening up with any soft questions. "I...don't know. We kind of had a bit of a blowup and are restarting. We're going to the upcoming ball together and I don't know beyond that."

"Why do you ask?" Harry queried after Natalia had not responded or asked for an expansion of the explanation.

Natalia shrugged, though her one shoulder only pushed into Harry's chest and didn't move much. "I thought you'd have a contract with her by now. I thought you'd pick them over me," she admitted in a small voice.

Harry pulled her tighter in his arms. "Without complications, things would be so much simpler..." Harry began, wistfully, his eyes staring off into the sky. "But it doesn't do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." The haunting words of Dumbledore came back to him at this moment.

"It doesn't…" Natalia agreed. "Would you prefer to do the ritual right away or wait a bit?"

Harry blinked at the question. Was she asking whether he wanted to have sex with her quickly or put it off? It felt like a trap question. "You figured it involved sex then?" he asked rhetorically. "There isn't a part of me that doesn't wish we could go back to the Yule Ball and then rip that dress off you," Harry shivered just thinking about it. That night had been so instrumental for him.

Looking back, it felt like his coming of age. No longer was he willing to settle for mediocrity. He'd planned to dominate the night. Nobody would dance better than he and Natalia. There wouldn't be a couple that wouldn't be envious of them. They'd be in the spotlight and the talk of the Wizarding World and he'd accomplished that goal.

"I wouldn't have minded," Natalia mumbled into his chest, before burying her head into his chest.

"But to answer your question, whenever you'd prefer. I've enjoyed sleeping with you and taking that final step won't be a _hardship_," he smirked and grinned down at her. Now that he'd experienced it, he felt far more comfortable talking about sex.

Harry couldn't tell if she was blushing but presumed she was by her silence.

Taking her quiet for confirmation that he'd answered her questions to her satisfaction, Harry decided to go with a question he wanted to get to, "With Fleur already being contracted to me," there was no way Harry was going to allow the Pavlov family to know he was mated to her already, "how do you envision two, potentially even three, wives working out? Are you going to be okay with Fleur, even? You didn't get along when I've been around you both…"

Natalia squirmed against him and didn't begin to answer immediately and Harry could almost hear her thinking. "I don't know. Like, I get that there are quite a lot of double marriages but I'd never thought it could happen for me…"

Harry ran his hand up and down her back as he leaned back, so his eyes could appraise her better as she answered. He was struck by the air of resignation that was around her. They were more than likely about to be getting promised to each other and she's resigned to it? Or was it just the question that had her in a bit of a funk?

"I think we'll just adjust and deal with it. It's not like it's going to be changing. We'll have to just alternate nights in your bed, for sleeping," she clarified, "and work with it." Her chin lifted and he could see a ghost of a smile forming, even if there was still a melancholic feel to her disposition.

"But it's not all bad. I won't have to attend every function, ball and societal event that you'll have to be at," she smirked at him mischievously. "Plus, I won't have to pop out a half dozen kids and look after them all," she shuddered at the thought of it. "With Fleur, she'll cover Potter and Delacour; for me, it's just the Black family and one or two beyond that."

"I was surprised by that. I didn't think your father would accept Fleur's progeny as first in line for the Potters and not getting the same agreement for the Black family. If I married Daphne, too, then your children would inherit after hers." That was one impediment that they had expected to have significant push back on. But, instead of heavy negotiations, they were willing to take financial considerations, and other tweaks, to accept it. Honestly, it only served to worry Harry more.

The real sort of understanding, on their easy capitulation, was that they wanted the deal done and had correctly read the landscape, that it wasn't going to be on the table, as an option.

"I think Father's concern was on the business arrangements and the political aspect of it. Having the Potter and Delacour names attached to ours will rehabilitate our image and that was the primary goal. A secondary is achieved by tying in with your allies. The economic long term opportunities to go along with it were too tempting."

The thoughts mirrored his own but Harry had an inkling that there was another side to things that had yet to be revealed. Harry didn't say anything, he let her words filter through his mind as he looked back over at their beautiful surroundings.

Being Natalia's question next, Harry allowed his thoughts to run wild. Natalia hadn't commented on getting along with Fleur but her answer allowed for the acceptance of the situation. It had felt like more of acknowledging that this is where things were heading and she'd make the best of it. It was the air of resignation that still clung to her, even now, that worried him.

Where was her elation at getting together with him? Where was her fire and tenacity to go after what she wanted and take it for herself? The two parts that had attracted him to the young ballerina were, apparently, lying dormant within her.

It might've given him pause from pursuing her, if his audacious plan didn't hinge on the Pavlov family's involvement. They weren't going to be in on the main part of it, but they would be dealing with the fallout. Ackerly was already drawing up the binding contracts; the solicitor did not know what it was for and he wasn't required to.

"Are you sure you want this?" The quiet words floated up to his ears and brought with them a tenor that he couldn't quite place.

Was this all because she was doubting her worth? Just insecurities of her self image versus Fleur, and even Daphne?

"Look, Natalia. You'll get away from your family with this. You'll get to pursue dance, help me with politics and we'll be happy together, won't we?" There was no fire in her eyes, just a soft pleading and it made him question his own words.

"I hope so," Natalia said with her head bowing and burrowing into his chest again.

The dichotomy of the words and actions, once again, perplexed him. Loving with her body language and despondent with her words. Perhaps it was just the topic and the concern of her family. "How's your ballet going? Are you performing anytime soon?"

A genuine smile blossomed on her face and she rubbed Harry's arm with affection. "Not too long. It'll be a private function but you'll have a ticket." Her eyes glinted in amusement, "I might even be charitable enough to get some for Fleur and Daphne too."

Harry's lips quirked upward and he lifted his eyebrows in amusement. "You'd want them to attend with me?" he asked lightly.

Natalia placed her palm on his chest and used it to push herself away from him, shooting him a shy look as she did so, "If they are going to be around, I may as well try and become friends with them, if not sisters, _eventually_."

That would be ideal, Harry thought. The constant inclusion of Daphne was a little strange. Had they become so close that Natalia would push for her, even if that meant sharing Harry with one more?

"I'm sure it'd be a nice olive branch, toward better relations in the future." Harry shifted in his seat, the leg Natalia had been leaning on and had recently vacated.

"Speaking of Fleur and Daphne, are either going to be staying with you tonight?" Left unsaid was her clear desire to do so.

"Neither of them are around. Daphne returned home to study under Cyrus and Fleur is heading home for the weekend. I'll be meeting Daphne at the ball, we're going together, but that's about it for my plans."

"Then, can I stay over tonight as well as Sunday?" Natalia asked, hope alight in her eyes as she shifted in her seat, now just resting her head on his shoulder and intertwining their hands.

"I'd like that. Saturday too, maybe. I don't think Daphne would be staying over with me or anything."

Natalia shook her head, rolling it against his shoulder, "No, have your night with her."

Harry looked at her for a moment and let the comment pass without a reply.

"Did they tell you about the final task yet?" Natalia questioned.

"No," Harry frowned in annoyance, "but it shouldn't be too long now, I hope. It's generally a maze, gauntlet or race through obstacles, historically. I doubt they'll keep the same plan as before, but you never really know…"

"I'm sure you'll do great," Natalia said and used her far too free hand to rub up and down his thigh. "I don't think anyone expects anyone other than you to win it," she said with confidence.

"We'll see. Like in quidditch, anything can happen. I'll do my best, and that's all I can promise." While he wanted to win the tournament, he had far more pressing things going on in his life, it just wasn't a major consideration for him, beyond ensuring he didn't get injured or killed in it.

"Can we go now, though? If we're going to be doing that ritual, I'd like to have some experience beyond snogging," she turned and then stood up, offering her other hand to help pull him up.

"We can't actually...err…do it. You know that, right?"

Natalia pulled him up and rolled her eyes. "There's a lot we can still do that we haven't done yet."

Harry nodded, liking the sound of that.

"Besides, the girls have been giving me tips and tricks on how to make use of my flexibility for _The Harry Potter_," she laughed and giggled after saying that, though her cheeks were red from blushing at how forward she was acting.

Not one to pass on such an opportunity, Harry dispelled the privacy spells he had set up earlier and prepared to take her back to the Chamber. As he took a moment to look at the girl whose hands he was still holding, Harry was glad that the fire and tenacity were coming back to the forefront. This was the Natalia he was so attracted to and he'd relish this evening for all it was worth.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! It took another month to get this one done! Apologizing isn't needed, I've just been busy and the slow update simply reflects that. I'm probably as annoyed as anyone else that it's taken so long recently but it is what it is. Though I should give the warning now, I've got a few weeks of work being done at my house and I have no idea how that will, or won't, affect my writing availability.
> 
> I'm around on the discord server, link in my profile, and you can all see I'm alive and well there.
> 
> Thanks to my betas, Nauze & Triage, for all their hard work!


	46. Gold, Gowns & Goldilocks

Harry was munching on his food, sitting in Salazar’s office. He’d had to pry himself from the naked young woman who had been in his bed. He’d have  _ loved _ to have had a repeat performance from the  _ flexible _ ballerina but they both had places to be.

Today was the Minister’s Inauguration Ball, and Harry wouldn’t be allowed much peace there at all. Plus, he had his own agenda. This all meant that he  _ had  _ to be getting to his training early, particularly because some of it could  _ only  _ be done in the Chamber of Secrets.

As he was thinking about what he had planned on experimenting and endeavouring today, with his fire manipulation, Daphne and Natalia came in. Gryffindor quidditch jersey, altered to have a deeper than what was strictly appropriate v-cut neck, and, from the look of it, just some skimpy underwear underneath. Harry looked at them but wasn’t seeing anything but the bottom of the jersey and a whole lot of legs.

“Morning, Harry,” Natalia chirped. Daphne didn’t give a verbal greeting, deeming her smirk and attire to be more than enough of a good morning.

“Morning. What’s all...this?” he asked, gesturing at them with his hand with a lazy up-and-down movement.

“Daphne is going to be attending the ball with you tonight and I thought she might want to spend the day here. There is such a lovely bathroom and all the space she could ever need to use to prepare for tonight.”

Harry looked at the girl he had spent the night with and saw the amusement dancing in her eyes. This had been a setup. Harry rolled his eyes and decided to just go with it. He wouldn’t be complaining that Daphne had decided to keep him company and tease him while doing so.

“Did either of you eat yet? Dobby would be more than happy to whip something up.” He wandlessly levitated another chair over, so both of them had a place to sit.

Natalia shook her head. “I’ve got to go. Just thought I’d tease you one more time, then get ready to go.”

“You came in here just to tease me?” he couldn’t completely hide his incredulity.

“I wanted to show you the jersey Daphne had tailored for me. It’s a bit  _ snug _ across the chest, don’t you think?” Natalia asked with faux innocence, jutting out her chest to amplify the effect.

Harry just rolled his eyes again. He’d had his hands and mouth all over them, sans clothing, though there was something enticing with cleavage on display without seeing the full breasts, Harry thought.

He stood up and embraced Natalia, who had opened her arms wide for a hug, but, instead of wrapping his arms around her back, his hands went down to her pert arse, grabbing a handful and giving it a squeeze.

“I’ll walk you out,” Harry said after letting go of Natalia. “You need to get changed first?”

The ballerina flicked out her wand and summoned a bag that must have been just outside the door. She reached into it then slipped on some pants and a sweater.

“And you’re staying here today?” he asked Daphne, the girl who had told him she was going to meet him at the ball.

She gave him a firm nod but said nothing else in reply. Harry took Natalia out and dropped her off back at the studio, promising to pick her up on Sunday as well. The whole trip lasted no more than twenty minutes, before Harry arrived back in the Chamber. He poked his head in to see Daphne quietly studying but he didn’t join her.

Ever since his discussion with McGonagall, he had an itch in his mind that just would  _ not  _ go away, and he wanted to test it out. He quickly got changed into his training clothes and then called for Cuddles to join him in the large chamber.

Harry was just about to begin when he heard footsteps and turned to see Daphne was coming out to join him.

“Doing wand work out here today?” she asked in lieu of greeting him again this morning. Harry’s eyes dipped down her body as he noticed she hadn’t gotten changed, nor put on more clothes.

“Yeah, I wanted more space.” Plus, a smaller enclosed space might get quite hot, he thought but didn’t disclose it.

“What are you working on?”

Harry scratched the back of his head, his face scrunching as he did so. “I was working the other day with McGonagall, while Fleur worked with Flitwick, and she said something that kind of bothered me.”

Daphne arched her eyebrow as she stopped walking, coming to stand close enough to converse, but far enough behind him that she wouldn’t interfere with his training.

“She’d said that the dragon reserves only check the integrity of the dragon wards, but don’t have to constantly re-apply them; I have to regularly update my fireproof charms and wards as Cuddles’ fire burns through them.”

“Leading you to assume you are either not setting your protections correctly, or something is  _ different _ about her fire,” Daphne completed his line of thinking. Her narrowed eyes shifted from side to side, though they were unfocused as they moved.

Harry hummed in agreement, and both teens’ attention were drawn to Cuddles as she flew into the main part, something clenched in her jaws. As she flew closer, Harry smiled grimly.

“She’s not going to eat that, is she?” Daphne asked, disgusted by the idea of it, as Cuddles landed in front of Harry and preened at her accomplishment.

Harry glanced back at her and smirked. He knew the fire spewing from Cuddles’ mouth was to cook her dinner.

“At first I was a bit revulsed...but then I pictured it as Cuddles devouring the  _ coward _ ,” he snarled the word, “who betrayed my parents.” Every time since then, he had no issues imagining Pettigrew being shredded by Cuddles’ sharp teeth and charred by her fire. The smell had even begun to be appealing to him, smelling of vengeance and justice.

Daphne scrunched her nose and let out a huff. Harry didn’t pay her any mind. It was time to start his experiments. With a mental command, Harry had Cuddles shoot out a torrent of flames out toward the main part of the chamber.

Harry had already snapped his wand into his hand and was concentrating deeply on his task. Much like with his previous attempts with McGonagall yesterday, a yellowy-orange minotaur, born of flames, stood before them.

“A minotaur, really?”

Harry just grinned in reply.

“You’re such a boy,” she tutted, rolling her eyes.

“Do you know the fireproofing charm?” Harry asked as he conjured a test dummy.

Harry looked over and was pleased to see Daphne brandishing her wand and casting, though she didn’t do it silently.

Harry nodded and had his animated minotaur turn, and hefted its large axe up over its head. With one large step, Harry’s creation brought the white-tipped fiery axe down upon the shoulder with such force that was sure to bisect it.

Harry watched, with great interest, as the axe was stalled, for just a second, similarly as to when releasing an object, it appeared that gravity took a second before grabbing hold, and started its descent. Just as the falling object, the axe, pushed through the fireproof charm and sliced the mannequin in half, from right shoulder to left thigh.

Harry’s green eyes flitted back over to Daphne and he saw she was looking at her wand. “Something wrong with your charm?” he asked, his voice smugly casual.

Daphne swiftly turned to him and gave him a withering glare. “Nothing was wrong with my wand work.”

“Let’s try again, this time I’ll add mine to yours.”

The mannequin was brought back to its previous condition, and they prepped it with their spells. This time, the bull-headed creature went to cut off its head but the result was much the same. For a fraction of a second, the two spells held before giving way to the flames, chopping off its head and setting it ablaze.

“That...shouldn’t be...possible,” Daphne said with a mix of disbelief and certainty.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The day had flown by, and Harry was glad Daphne had spent the day with him. She’d had some unique insights that he might not have come to, on his own. With so much progress being made it was nearly time for it to begin. Though she had gone to get ready well before him, he was waiting for Daphne.

This wasn’t a night he was looking forward to. Politicking and socializing with people he didn’t care to get to know, right now, wasn’t appealing. Yet, he found himself still looking forward to walking in arm-in-arm with Daphne Greengrass, quite possibly the most beautiful girl her age.

Natalia was a drop-dead gorgeous girl, and he was kind of already married to a part-veela. While he still could appreciate how exquisite Daphne would look tonight, he felt some apprehension that the effects of beautiful women were becoming muted on him.

As he sat waiting for his date for the evening to come down, he thought back over the tests. Cuddles’ fire wasn’t ordinary dragon fire. It was plain to see. Daphne had even put on more clothes and had taken out a couple of books on dragons from the library, for reference.

None of them indicated having magical fire that would eat through flame retardant spells and wards, especially nothing that cut through them nearly as if they weren’t there. Daphne had him create a fiery hamster and had it gnaw at the mannequin, citing that it may be the force of the blow that was disturbing the protection from fire, not the fire itself. But when that little devil of a hamster chewed right through the ankle of poor Marty, the Mannequin, it had shown it was, without a doubt, the flames themselves.

After hours of extensive testing, it had been time for Daphne to head off and get ready. What she did for hours in Slytherin’s extravagant bathroom, he had no idea. At least Harry had been productive, working on what McGonagall had taught him about Elemental Transfiguration and incorporating it to work with Cuddle’s flames.

The best part about the discovery was what it could mean to his plan. Originally, he had thought he’d need quite a bit of support, but that may simply not be the case now. Harry had planned to see how many competent wands Ivan could scrounge up but that aspect of the plan had always worried him greatly.

But all of these thoughts were driven out of his mind as soon as Daphne walked in. The girl was stunning in her evening gown, black with silver accents, that was formal enough for the party and yet, didn’t expose skin unnecessarily. Instead, it hugged her body, something witches’ robes generally failed to do.

“You look beautiful, Daphne,” Harry said, as he stood up, stating how he genuinely saw her.

“Thanks,” she murmured a little red tinge coming to her cheeks.

“Ready to go then?” Harry asked, offering an arm to her.

She took his arm and the two of them went through the floo. Within a couple of minutes, they were checked in and making their way to their table for the evening. Harry and Daphne were seated with Susan and Hannah, at the Minister’s table, along with Rufus Scrimgeour and Stacey Parent. Rufus had stepped into the position of Deputy Minister while Miss Parent had taken the reins of the DMLE.

Dinner passed quickly, nothing of consequence happened, only polite conversation. It wasn’t the right time for anything of substance to happen. Though, the polite and easy conversation was more enjoyable than Harry had expected his entire evening to go.

Daphne stood up as the music began, and looked at Harry expectantly. Harry took a sip of his water and then rose from his seat. “Care for a dance, Daphne?” The Greengrass heiress took the offered hand, and Harry led them onto the dance floor.

As they fluidly moved through the proper dance steps together Daphne spoke, “For your first major political dinner, you are doing well. I’m impressed.”

Harry completed the side spin he put Daphne in, and then put his hand on her back as they continued moving to the music. “You’ve informed me well, Horace too. Act cheery and be polite through dinner. Dance with my date, and be ready for the politicking to begin.”

Daphne leaned into him as they danced and let out a contented sigh. “Were you already going to be seated with your friends at the Minister’s table, or was it decided after you confirmed me as your date to them?”

If Daphne was surprised by the question, she didn’t show it, her face, just a few inches from his, had a charming smile, her bright eyes shining, letting anyone observing them think as though she was having the time of her life dancing with Harry Potter. Daphne could play her part well.

“I wouldn’t have sat there if you hadn’t been my date. Auntie Amelia needed to put on a show of power. She’s got the whole hierarchy of the DMLE in her back pocket, she’s, apparently, on good terms with Harry Potter, and her niece is good friends with two important neutrals. And this is all without showboating any of the political blocs that put her there from the Wizengamot.”

Harry let that stew in his mind and compared it with what Horace had told him, allowing a few bars of music to play, as he considered her words. “Should I be expecting her to be asking for a dance with me shortly, then?”

Daphne gave a soft laugh, making it sound more like he had made a funny comment then, and having the time of her life with him as their conjoined bodies failed to miss a step. “No, when we take a break, I’m sure you’ll have a chat with her.”

Harry acknowledged her words and then just focused on enjoying the quiet part of the evening. Dancing with a beautiful girl in his arms, enjoying the nice music, and not having to deal with anything. The stupid part of his brain was thoroughly enjoying his evening with Daphne. She was pretty much everything you could hope for in a partner. If she could have more than one kid, Harry had no doubts Horace would have pushed for her, heavily.

Harry dipped his neck back, allowing him to get a better look at Daphne, giving his eyes and thoughts a chance to align, but her eyes were urging him to look in a direction. Thoroughly distracted from his previous plan, Harry followed her eyes and saw Cyrus and Mrs Malfoy dancing towards them.

“Father had said she’d be wanting to speak with you.” she said.   
  
Harry already knew that, based on her last blatantly tormenting words to her, oh so  _ sadly _ , late husband. Harry sighed and knew his short reprieve wouldn’t have lasted much longer anyway. He steeled himself for the end of the carefree part of his night.

Having already previously greeted each other this evening, the four courteously switched partners. They had been dancing for less than a minute when Narcissa started their conversation, “I’d heard tales, holiday after holiday, about how talentless Harry Potter was. Draco and Severus were adamant there was nothing between your ears. Yet, all I’ve heard and seen of you, this year, after escaping Dumbledore’s shadow, was effusive praise from the likes of which one could not help but take note of.”

Harry kept his face blank, he was already having enough trouble with the awkwardness. He had been able to look at Narcissa but his first real interaction, after the wanton display to an unknown and hidden Harry, would’ve been better if it  _ didn’t _ involve close body contact and being able to feel her breath on his neck.

“Horace, Griselda, and Amelia all lavish you with praise; a stark contrast to what I had previously heard and...well...I thought it best to see you first-hand. I can’t be on unfamiliar terms with the Regent of the House I was born and raised in, now can I?”

“And now that you’ve spoken with Cyrus and done some observing, have you come to any conclusion?” he asked.

Narcissa hummed and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to avoid answering.

“I’d thought Cyrus was running the negotiations. Now though, I’m not so sure,” she dipped away from him, her eyes keenly focused on his own. “Cyrus has always been so pragmatic and conservative. Horace too. Yet their recent manoeuvres have had an aggressiveness to them, one I’m starting to understand.”

Harry kept dancing and wondered if the song would end and relieve him of having this conversation.

“Have you ever heard of how to solve a problem that seems to have no answers or leads?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

The smile that came to her face made him slightly unnerved. “You look for who it benefits the most.”

“Interesting theory,” Harry gave a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“It is, isn’t it? Just imagine knowing there is a burgeoning political bloc being put together and then the incumbent de facto political leadership is decimated by said bloc. The Minister sent off in disgrace and the man that had his ear, for everything, just died on his own, before he could retaliate.”

“LIke I said, an interesting  _ theory _ .”

“I want my house and a good pile of gold. Cyrus can get all his terms for working with you, not against you, supplying information, and the business demands he has. I’m aware the Malfoy fortunes are taking a large hit but I want my liquid capital and  _ my _ house.”

“Cyrus already told you that term was non-negotiable.”

“You wouldn’t want me going and have a little chat with Madam Bones or Mr. Scrimgeour, now would we?” Her thin smile sent a chill down Harry’s spine.

“I expect to have one myself; feel free to have one too, the house is non-negotiable. Speak with Cyrus further, he handles all this for House Black.” Cyrus had clear directions, directions that had been made in conjunction with his own opinions, and the rest of Harry and his advisors’ as well.

The song was ending, and Harry saw Daphne was being led back over to him, he’d be happy to dance with his date again. Narcissa was an excellent, elegant dancer but the company was less pleasant than enticing. The woman mere inches from him was a snake in the grass. She had nothing and was only trying to rattle him.

“Thanks for the dance,” Harry said as he switched back to Daphne.

“Oh, and Harry, Horace had the better of it,” Narcissa threw the comment over her shoulder and then turned her head back around and went off dancing with Cryus.

“That went well?”

Harry let out a deep breath, “I think so.”

“Why don’t we head off the dance floor after this one, we’ll have a good opportunity to speak with our new Minister of Magic.”

“Then the others?”

“Yes, after the Minister and her confidants.”

Harry nodded, as much as this ‘date’ was one, the entire night was dominated by politics. Horace has been working overtime and setting up things for this night.

It wasn’t long after that Harry had found himself arm-in-arm with Daphne and engaged in conversation by the new Minister of Magic.

“I’d like to thank you for your support,” Amelia began, after them both exchanging pleasantries.

“And I’d like to thank you for not having a corrupt Minister.”

Yes,” the auburn-haired replied, smiling, her lips pressed in a thin line, “and I note you never followed through on the second requested meeting.”

Harry heard the words and his mind worked furiously to recall what she had meant.

“Harry has just been busy, auntie,” Daphne said from his side. “Besides, when you told daddy about it, we made sure you’d have a chance to chat now.”

Both of Amelia’s eyebrows raised and she let a soft huff of air out her nose. “You weren’t lying when you said only your owl would find you,” she said, shifting her eyes back to Harry.

“No, I wasn’t. I stay in a highly secure place and am only accessible by a select few individuals.” Harry doubted the shrewd woman would miss his significant glance at his date, nor the way she preened at his look.

“Well, I’ll get right to the heart of the matter then but, first, Daphne, this stays between the three of us. Am I clear?” The final three words had been punctuated and the woman’s eyes had hardened.

“Yes, auntie. Unless given permission, I won’t utter the words to a soul beyond yourself and Harry.”

Harry just waited and figured this was going to be about, though if it wasn’t about his previous revelation of Tom Riddle’s anagrammed name, he was going to be surprised. A few twirls of her wand later and Harry felt the privacy charms come into effect.

“Barty Crouch Junior survived long enough to be interrogated about any and  _ all _ information that he might have had that had any value. It wasn’t until his worth was extinguished that he was  _ disposed  _ of.”

Harry took a second to let his mind dwell on that revelation. “Too many captured Death Eaters in the last war died, went missing or got off in the last war?” Cyrus and Horace had been educating him on what had actually happened in the last war.

Madame Bones gave a stiff nod. “What we now know is something I expect you’ve known all along, Mr Potter.”

“That Riddle is coming back and the events of this year were orchestrated by him?” Harry said, and he could feel Daphne tighten her grip on him.

“You were put into the tournament, Harry, so they could capture you in the Third Task. Crouch Jr was to aid you into completing the tournament, and take whatever measures were necessary to ensure you won, and the cup was a portkey to him.”

Harry had a hard time to keep from grinning. It was far more sensible to just capture him but Voldemort liked to be dramatic. Capturing the Boy-Who-Lived directly from the tournament that had the eyes of the entire Wizarding World on it, would grow his legend and make him even more feared.

“We know he is alive, and that you thwarted his first attempt at coming back in your first year.”

Harry nodded, it wasn’t something he’d discussed with them, but it was something they would have wanted to have been informed of.

“Where we will need to have further  _ discussions _ is on  _ how  _ he is still around.”

Harry took a moment to think about his reply. He obviously knew but wasn’t about to just blurt that out, nor was he certain he wanted to reveal the information  _ at all _ . The more it was spread around, the greater the chance of discovery. There were mistakes he could blame Dumbledore for but keeping the idea of horcruxes a secret just wasn’t one of them.

“Headmaster Dumbledore would be your better bet for  _ how _ . I just know that he is around and plotting something.”

Amelia raised her eyebrow. “Plotting something?”

Harry dipped his chin, this was an opportunity he couldn’t have baited any better than if he’d spent years devising it. “Yes, I can’t reveal my source,” he gave a pained smile as if it bothered him he couldn’t reveal his source, “but the World Cup was just the opening salvo, with my Triwizard entry being the follow-up and precursor to the major events to come.”

“Major  _ events _ ?” she made him clarify the plurality.

“Even _ ts _ ,” he replied, stressing the last consonant.

“Right. Follow me, please.” She turned and indicated to her subordinates to come as well. She quickly led them out of the main area and off to a side room that looked as though it had been specifically set up for private meetings tonight.

Scrimgeour and Parent had joined them, and Daphne had stayed on Harry’s arm.

“To bring you two up to speed, Harry has said he is not aware of how You-Know-Who is still around. However, he has intel to suggest there are major  _ events _ , plural, coming.”

With her words spoken, the new Head of the DMLE and Head Auror snapped their attention to him. “Yes, it’s vague...but, the understanding I’ve been told is that there was a  _ major _ thing planned before the Third Task. His capturing me would be the cherry on top, so to speak.”

“And you have a source that you aren’t willing to share, telling you this?” Scrimgeour growled, though Harry suspected that was more toward the revelation than him keeping secrets.

“I’m sure if Harry knew  _ anything _ more, he’d be forthright with it,” Daphne interjected with a calm, cool voice as she gave Harry’s arms a squeeze.

Madame Bones took the monocle out of her eye and wiped it off. “I’m being entirely upfront with you, Harry. The three of us are the only ones at the Ministry who are aware Crouch Jr. lived longer than we’d said. Bringing you two in is a fair risk, to us.”

Harry glanced at the other two senior members and saw they were in full agreement.

“Daphne, you are like family, to me, and your family has been a close ally of ours for years. And, Harry, you are caught up in the middle of this, and I want you to be informed, prepared, and to understand we are supporting you. All of us have lost friends and family to You-Know-Who and his forces. We won’t take their return lightly.”

“I...appreciate it, Minister.”

“We’ve been following all leads on Tom Riddle,” Stacy Parent began, turning the direction of the conversation back to their common foe. “We’ve found birth records, his time in an orphanage, Hogwarts records, and anything after it we’d been able to. Rufus and I are the only ones involved. Amelia is kept apprised, and Albus Dumbledore has already followed most of them, we’ve come to discover.”

Harry sighed, of course the headmaster had. He and his advisors were going to have a conversation with that man. Dumbledore wouldn’t know about their progress with horcruxes, and neither did they know about his.

“Are you planning on confronting the Headmaster about it?”

“No,” Stacy answered Harry’s question, “we will at some point; but we will continue our investigations and preparations first.”

“Besides, Albus will start his vigilante group up again, and he’ll recruit some of my aurors,” Scrimgeour said.

“Keep us informed, and we’ll do what we can to keep you apprised as well.”

“I will...and thanks,” Harry replied.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It felt great to kick off his shoes and get changed into an undershirt and shorts. Sinking back into the incredibly comfortable armchair in front of the fire was a perfect relaxing finish to his day.

Harry leaned his head back into the cushions and shut his eyes. He stayed that way until Daphne entered the room.

“Can you make a space for one more?”

Harry opened his eyes and used his wand to transfigure the armchair into a mix between a two and three-person sofa. Harry positioned himself in the corner, allowing his legs to stretch out and be at an even angle between watching the fire and Daphne.

“Thanks for tonight, Daphne. It may not have seemed much, but I appreciated you helping to smooth things over, your political acumen was astounding and, of course, you were the most beautiful date in attendance.”

“Thanks, Harry. For your first political soiree, you did well, better than expected, I’d say.”

Harry let out a tired sigh and let his eyelids droop as he did so. “It went well, especially with the Minister.” Harry couldn’t believe that stroke of luck. Bones had her most trusted looking into Voldemort still being around, and he’d planted a seed that would sprout into a huge boon for his plans.

“Auntie likes you, she’s told Susan as much. The Bones and Potter families have been on good terms for centuries, without being close allies, and having your support, alongside with many of the neutrals, the Diggory’s, and many of the moderates will bode well for her.”

Horace had gone over his plan for their political positioning, and a Bones-led ministry was going to be highly beneficial for the bloc he was building out, it included many of her closest allies.

Harry let the conversation lapse. He was mentally fatigued and happy to just relax.

There was one niggling thought he couldn’t force to stay out of his head. Daphne, the girl who had teased him with her selection of clothing and now, after their first big date, just comes in with conservative and comfortable clothes she’d be as likely to work out in as she would wearing them to stay warm on a cold night.

It bothered him and he cracked his eyes open. “What’s going on with us, Daphne? If tonight was evidence of anything, we work well together. I find you attractive and politically we are a match…”

Daphne shifted and leaned forward, her legs crisscrossing underneath her. “I like you and think we can work well. I’d rather fulfil the contract than leave it to my child, grandchild or whomever next fits it. Things are good between us now, and I can make it work with Fleur and Natalia, if that contract goes through too.”

“Is ‘ _ making it work’ _ enough though? I have a hard time with the idea of being with you because it’s ‘convenient to fulfil a contract’.”

“Harry, very few wizarding elites marry for love. The fact that we actually  _ like _ each other sets us up far better than most get.” She placed her hand just above his knee and gave him a gentle squeeze.

With a frown, Harry released a breath. Slughorn had been discussing it. He wasn’t  _ forcing _ Harry at all. It was just that two out-of-England marriages sent the wrong message. He needed to solidify and connect himself politically. It is not that he wouldn’t be politically strong here, but tying himself to a local powerbase for a bloc, through matrimony, would set him up better.

“Are you not trying to entice me, physically, anymore?”

Daphne gave him a look he was unable to place. “Can I sit with you, I’ll explain then.”

Harry shrugged and went to move his legs but Daphne’s hands were on both of his. “Let me lean against your chest?”

Harry nodded and Daphne moved, head back resting on his chest, her hips between his thighs and her legs stretched out with his. He wasn’t sure where to put his hands but Daphne grabbed them and wrapped them around her middle.

She leaned her head back into him and then answered, “I tried that. I thought looks and showing some skin would get you interested in me. But, that didn’t work. I...think, you appreciate a woman’s beauty, but it’s not the driving factor for you. Natalia told me she just wore like sweats around you, and you thought she was beautiful. Fleur was in her uniform and not flashing skin at you…”

“So you’ve given up on that idea?”

Daphne’s shoulders pushed into him and then relaxed. “It wasn’t working and it doesn’t help the self-confidence to show off and not get the expected results.”

“Makes sense. If it’s any consolation, you were alluring. I just can’t base things off looks, there’s so much more to it than that.”

“It’s just how it was in Slytherin. Guys lusted after beauty.”

“Yeah, you hear it in the Gryff dorms too.”

Daphne shifted her hips, rolling so she was slightly leaning to the left, “I think we can work, Harry. I’d rather deal with this and be with you. I can play politics, Natalia can dance and Fleur…”

“Fleur?” Harry questioned.

“Natalia is going to be gone,  _ a lot _ . Touring, practising, and be exhaustingly busy. She’ll love it and get time with you here and there. Many married couples don’t sleep in the same room, they don’t even get physically involved beyond creating heirs. I won’t want it to be that cold, but I don’t expect you in my bed every night, or drowning me in affection and attention.”

“That doesn’t answer on Fleur though.”

Daphne let out a breath and shifted her hair to flow down her right shoulder. “Fleur won’t be like that. She wants you, just you. Fleur’ll want to be in your bed every night. She’ll want to spend her days with you, and be your partner in  _ everything _ . A lot of the managing of the relationship will be about having Fleur relinquish time with you.”

Harry took in those words, he could tell Daphne was being careful in how she approached this. Even the physical closeness was probably part of the tactic for bringing it up.

“You’d be fine having your own room and me sharing one with Fleur, so long as you had me to yourself from time to time?”

Daphne giggled. “I’ve never been with a guy before. I only know what I’ve seen in other relationships. If we all communicate well and want it to work, it can work; that is, if you plan to include me.”

Harry squeezed Daphne around the middle and dropped his chin on top of her head. “I'm leaning towards it; I think I’ll need you.”

Horace had pointed it out. He needed connections locally and cementing Cyrus to him was paramount. With connections to the new Minister and a whole political bloc being created, he would set himself up well. Daphne wouldn’t be a chore to be married to, not by any stretch of the imagination. It felt like a business arrangement that could work out well.

Besides, having three politically astute wives, and one of which wanted to make a career of it, could only be a good thing.

“You know I’m getting close to completing the ritual set.”

“I know. I’d love to do the power-sharing one, but I’m not sure if it will affect my issue.”

Harry nodded, plus she had the locket, Daphne didn’t need parseltongue, though it would be quite a boon.

“Natalia and one more, or just two to go.”

“Does that make you nervous?” Daphne asked, her body twisting so her back was being pushed more into the sofa than Harry.

“It’s...not the rituals that worry me. It’s the test, or whatever is coming. None who have trodden this path before me have been worthy.”

“Not even Tom Riddle, the prodigious Head Boy, a wizard that became powerful enough to take on Albus Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic.”

Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes, “I think it’ll happen at forty-nine rituals, the test. If I fail and couldn't do forty-nine…”

“Your magic would destabilize or you’d do a ritual hoping to balance it but, more than likely, you’d be a squib or dead within a couple of years.”

Harry took a deep breath in, opened his eyes, then exhaled, letting his worries and anxiousness out with the carbon dioxide. “My path is set, I move forward or I get that anyways... You’ll be here for 49?”

“Definitely,” she leaned her head towards him and pecked his cheek. “Is it going to be just me or are you going to have Fleur and Natalia too?” She moved her head back and rested it on his shoulder, her lips tantalizingly close to his neck.

“You and maybe the others. I’ve not thought about it yet. Though Fleur will be down here a lot more. She has access anytime and some of the books have some tutelage for her.”

Harry could practically hear her frown. This was the place where she had almost sole access to him. In some ways, he would miss how it was just the two of them studying down here, but getting Fleur some parseltongue learning was important. She was going to be the wand that had his back.

“I’m going to turn in but I haven't read the journal entry yet. I’m going to do that now then head to bed, morning training starts early.” Harry shifted so he could get his trapped leg out.

“That’s how you’re going to end the date night?” Daphne asked with a pout.

Harry shrugged. “I won’t be able to stop thinking about it. I need to read it carefully and see if there is a clue for 49. You can stay as long as you like down here, you know that.”

Daphne scowled but waved him off and Harry went to the book on his desk. Normally, he’d read these right away in the morning but he hadn’t today. It had been on his mind all day, and he hadn’t wanted to read it and then find out something about a possible worthiness test. He’d not be able to concentrate at the ball if that was the case.

_ As you’ve read, over and over, protecting your loved ones is the loftiest goal you can achieve. Live well, love well, and protect those that you do. Whether that protection is raising good children with strong morals and skilled wands, whether that is physically or magically protecting them from those that would do them harm, or whether that is by doing preemptive strikes to ensure your enemy can never raise a wand in malice against them matters not. _

_ Protecting your family must be the primary goal. _

_ Morals come after, your honour comes after it. There shouldn’t be anything you can do, short of destroying yourself that you  _ shouldn’t  _ do to protect them. There will be times where you will have to make ugly decisions, decisions between two brutal choices, and you’ll have to take the most ghastly one to effectively protect your family. _

_ If the muggles come trying to burn the heathen witchcraft-practising family, you need to be ready to burn them all. You’ll have to stomach killing and ripping apart families just to protect your own. When they burn the crops, raze the barns, and come to the house with makeshift weapons, you are already a failure. You have allowed your family to be endangered. _

_ Instead, you should have already slaughtered those who would rally others to harm, maim, kill, and rape your family. Believe me, when the mob is acting, no crime is too heinous. They will rape your wives, your daughters and, if you are particularly unlucky, yourself and your sons. Families show up at Hogwarts, and these truthful tales come out, eventually anyways. _

_ You must learn of your enemies, you must predict their plans, expect their actions, and thwart them. Poison their food, slit their throat while they sleep. There is not an action too despicable to take to protect yourself and your family from those animals. _

_ Now, you may be reading this and think that my earlier discussion on morals and being a person of high character conflicts with it. But let me ask you. What is character when your wife was violated, raped, and killed because you stayed your hand? _

_ What value is your honour when your son is hewn in the field, your daughter's body is mangled so badly that you cannot even recognize your own kin? _

_ This world is full of degenerates. There are scum that will stoop to the lowest level just to spite you. The man you unintentionally insulted festers the wound because he’s upset that he is inadequate. He dwells upon it and stews in his anger. Only after his irrational brain comes up with the notion of taking something from you so you learn your lesson does he have the gall to act. The coward that he is, he awaits the moment you are away, that you are distracted, unavailable or when you have let your guard down. Only then, when you are vulnerable, does he strike, but not at you. No, the yellow-bellied son of a whore strikes at those who are innocent, pure, and deserve no harm to come to them. He goes for your wife, your children, your nieces, your nephews, your parents.  _

_ I’ve seen it. I’ve lived through it. There are countless that have attended our sanctuary of a school that relive it in harrowing dreams, on a nightly basis. _

_ The reality of the world is that there are those that will do whatever is necessary, no matter how contemptible, reprehensible or revolting it is, so long as they get to strike back at you, they are content. _

_ It is those men and women you need to worry about. It is them that you need to protect your family against. _

_ You must learn that honour, morals and character are necessary unless it comes to the protection of all that you hold dear. When your honour costs you a niece, you will learn how bitter it is. When your morals cost you a daughter, you will taste how bitter honour can be, and when you lose a wife to your character, you will then understand just how loathsome you can become to take vengeance. _

_ But, let me warn you, my heir. Vengeance cannot fill the hole of a lost loved one. Vengeance takes that hole and expands it. It is never enough to torture and murder those responsible. Only the return of them is acceptable - a magical impossibility. _

_ Listen to me, my heir. Heed my words. Protect your family, do whatever vile thing you must to do to keep them out of harm's way. Whether it be muggle, magical or creature, protect your loved ones. Too many learn this lesson through practical experience; heed my words, learn it now, and the unbearable pain might just be avoided. _

_ Protect your family, always. There is no higher calling. _

Harry snapped the book shut. What was this leading towards?

That the process by which he protects his love ones was irrelevant, that it is the results that matter? There were times in wizarding history where entire family lines were wiped out, babies included. Could he do something like that?

He’d already had a mentally fatiguing day, and now he had to deal with this?

His mental capacity had been reached and his thoughts turned to mush. Perhaps his dreams could be more pleasant.

With that in mind, he pushed himself out from the desk and stood up. He let out a sigh. It would sure be nice to have Fleur or Natalia in his bed tonight. Not even for sex or anything. Just someone to grab, hold onto and be there when he fell asleep, and when he woke up.

It wasn’t something he’d had a lot of experience with in his life.

Harry pulled his shirt over his head as he entered the bedroom and he let it fall on the ground as he used his thumbs to run down his hips and start to pull down his pants.

“And here I thought I’d put on a little show for you,” Daphne’s voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts. His eyes snapped to where it came from and they saw Daphne seated in a chair, beside the bed, one leg crossed over another, with a robe on.

Harry’s thumbs paused on his hips.

Daphne stood up, her long legs coming out of the robe, showing bare skin. “Are you going to drop those or do you want me to reciprocate first?”

Harry’s hands came off the top of his pants. “No teasing, Daphne, no games.”

“I’m not,” Daphne frowned, “I won’t go all the way but we can do some of the stuff you did with Natalia...or other things.”

“When I said I thought we’d end up together; I hadn’t expected it to be tonight.”

Daphne sat beside him on the bed, their legs touching, “Harry, you knew I wanted to be your first so it shouldn’t be a leap to think I want to be you third.”

Harry went and sat down on the end of the bed. “There were things I wanted to sort out before talking contract.”

She rolled her eyes. “Father and Slughorn, along with Delacour, already have an agreement in principle for altering the previous contract.”

“Fine then. Will you admit that it was your family that removed Hermione from Hogwarts and have her in America, with her family, and refusing to contact me?” Harry’s green eyes bored into her.

Daphne’s chin began to dip before her eyes hardened and she jutted it out. “A war is coming, and no family facilitated more half-blood and muggleborn families than ours in the last one. Given her closeness to you, her family would have been targeted and killed.”

“Right, that was the only solution,” Harry replied, his voice full of sarcasm.

“It wasn’t,” Daphne admitted. “We wanted her out of the way so I could get close to you. We wanted you to get the Black family instead of the Malfoys. Hermione might have stood in the way and, instead of just  _ removing _ her, we improved her life. She lives with her family, she’s getting a great education, one where blood status isn’t even a discussion point.”

Harry relaxed his clenched hands. From all the reports he had, Hermione had new friends, she was close to her parents and she was away from all of this craziness. As great and smart as she was, Hermione couldn’t keep up with Fleur magically. She didn’t have the upbringing or connections Natalia did, nor was she so well connected and politically trained, like Daphne.

Hermione was better off in America.

The thought hit him like a sack of bricks. She could flourish there, there would be no trolls, no basilisk and no re-emerging dark lord to stand against.

“Does that answer your question then, or do you have more?”

“No, nothing more at the moment.”

“Then, did you want to undress me? I’m the only girl down here not getting any action.”

“Just like that then?” This business transaction type straightforwardness was strange. There had been no snogging sessions, no build-up. Just ‘take clothes off and hop into bed together’.

Daphne stood up, took a step out from the bed and turned on her heel. In the same motion she dropped her robe and revealed she had nothing but undergarments on. She smirked down at him. “How bout you take care of the bottoms, I”ll sort out the top.”

Harry complied without thought, his thumbs slid along her hips, between them and her knickers, and he slowly pulled them down. As they came off a curious sight caught his attention.

“Blonde?” Harry reached forward and touched the little blonde hairs.

“That’s what you are going to focus on, not just below them or these?” She cupped her breasts with her hands.

That got Harry’s attention and he reached with his hands to touch them but Daphne jumped into bed. “Join me, Harry?” she asked, sultrily.

“Sure thing,  _ Goldilocks _ .”

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN:
> 
> It came out on discord that my username and Taliesin19’s are pretty similar. Add an i to Salient and it’s a perfect anagram of Taliesin. So, obviously, given Taliesin19’s fic features Harry x OC and my fic has a prominent OC love interest, we’re the same person on two different accounts. Given that our secret was blown, we released the fic we had been working on: Harry & Gabby - A Fanfic. It’s under the username SalTalStudios. ~17k words, and I quite like it. Give it a read if you’d like- I booked marked it if that makes it easier to find.
> 
> Thanks for reading the chapter update, commenting, bookmarking and giving kudos!  
Feel free to join the Discord server from the link in my profile.  
And, as always, thanks to Nauze & Triage for betaing the chapter!


	47. Of Perspective & Rituals

"As Harry said, I'm Samantha Roberts and Harry has asked me to do this interview. As was agreed, a copy will be sent off for approval, prior to publishing, and this interview will go live through most of the ICW countries after it's approval, on the same day."

Harry was a little nervous about this, having Natalia, Daphne, and Fleur all together for the first time since the Yule Ball had him a bit apprehensive. Yet, the rational part of him knew they were all too well brought up to cause any sort of scene in public.

"I'll start by asking Harry some questions and then move along. This shouldn't take too long." Sam shared a smile with them all.

It couldn't. The press conference for the Third Task was right after this. A joint announcement of details for the task and the press work leading into it.

With no disagreement, Sam began the interview.

"I think the first thing, beyond congratulations, would have to be why _now_? You're only fourteen and you have years before you'd have been pressured towards a decision like this, let alone three."

Harry nodded and looked at each young woman before responding. "I could have waited but would these three beautiful women's families have been okay to wait? It wasn't so much the pressure on that, just that I recognized how incredible each one of them is and how well things came together. Everyone would be aware of how well Natalia and I have gotten on and it just clicked for us in the beginning. The rest is history, as they say. She's gorgeous, smart, and loyal. I don't know what more you could want from a partner."

Harry took a quick intake of breath and then continued, "The Delacour family has been a staunch ally of the Potter family, going back generations, and they are like having my own family around. Fleur and I got to know each other and though it was a great political match, our personal connection can't really be quantified."

"Daphne and I had been pupils together at Hogwarts but we hadn't gotten a chance to know each other. When I took on the Black Regency, the Greengrass family was there for me. We've spent a lot of time together this year and it's just been great - she's just been great."

"I don't think anyone will have any difficulties seeing why you locked these three up, but why was the focus now, instead of in a few years, or even a decade?"

Harry frowned, he had missed answering that part. "This year has been a year of maturation, change, and growth for me. There has been such a degree of change that I barely feel like the same person. One of the things I have done well was seizing opportunities that came up. My tutor has been amazing, Horace has been a great mentor, and I have strong supportive advisors.

"When you look at each fiancé individually, they are just exceptional. I can't sit here and tell you I don't feel overwhelmed and overjoyed that this has worked out this way. I never thought beyond a single wife and a couple kids. I mean, that was always what I thought of, the standard nuclear family. I'd be lucky to have that with any of them and, somehow, they all agreed to this."

"Thanks, Harry," Sam said, "Can you talk about this partnership and how it all came together? The idea of the Delacour and Pavlov families being involved in an agreement like this would've been unconscionable to consider, given their animosity at the ICW."

"One piece at a time, like anything else." Harry gave a slight smile and then continued.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry flopped down into the love seat by the fire, kicking his legs up, both Fleur and Daphne followed him in.

"That was less painful than I had expected but still tiring," he said, letting out a breath.

Any response was delayed by a happy screech and then Cuddles came flying into the room. She first turned towards Harry but something caused her to pause. Harry shook his head, realizing he knew exactly what it was. Daphne had conjured a little stand for her and was finishing up the transfiguration work to make the rocks comfortable and hot, just how Cuddles' liked it.

Daphne had a smug look plastered to her as Fleur looked on, jealousy dancing in her eyes. Her blue eyes drifted to Harry and she smiled. Approaching the love seat, she transfigured it into a full-sized sofa; Fleur slipped into the new space and put Harry's head in her lap.

Daphne took the chair beside and reached out her arm so she could pet Cuddles, the little dragon preening at the attention.

"Sam will send a copy of that to everyone for editing and approval. The story should break in a week," Harry said, ignoring the byplay between the girls.

"I thought it went well, mon coeur," Fleur said as she stroked his head.

"It will be fine," she said. "Was it Horace who was heading up the planning of the engagement party?" Daphne asked.

"Yes, he's getting the guest list put together; it'll be on the day that the news goes public."

"It'll be large then," Daphne said. "Three women engaged all at once."

"I'm sure you'll have the Minister there?" Harry asked, turning his head to look at Daphne.

"Naturally, and with the people I can see father inviting, I can't imagine this is going to be a small event either. It might end up being called a private party but function more like a ball."

"Oui," Fleur said, "Papa will 'ave many that will need to be there as well."

Harry sighed, there was always more politics on the horizon. He took a moment to enjoy Fleur's ministrations but knew he'd asked them down here for a reason.

"I got word that the Pavlov's signed the contract. I'll be signing it and doing the ritual with Natalia...tonight."

"The forty-eighth ritual," Daphne said, no visible change to her countenance as her eyes were focused on her work at making Cuddles attempt to play the part of a purring cat.

Harry gave a tight nod.

"She is not down here for this reason, non?"

Natalia was about to become a confidant but she wasn't one yet. "I wanted to bring it up now, and we can all get together and discuss it more later...I want to talk about setting some ground rules."

Harry looked at Daphne, she was sitting upright and with a perfect posture. Fleur was relaxed beside him but her eyes showed how closely she was paying attention.

"There is going to be conflict, even in a one to one relationships, they happen. I expect when it happens that it will be kept internal," Harry said. "No gossiping and running back to family and friends before discussing it with the other person or group."

"Witch Weekly will wantonly weave whatever we wished wasn't written," Daphne said. "We don't need to add any extra fuel."

"We will need to be respectful of each other," Fleur said, frowning as she did so.

"Exactly. I can't always be the arbiter. If you girls want to try and get me to play the referee each time there's an argument, it's _not _going to go well."

Daphne crossed her arms over her chest. "Then what would you suggest? There's going to be issues, particularly with schedules. Have you even considered Yule? Which family traditions will be adopted, whose family dinner do we attend? Who comes around in the morning, or where will you go solo? Do you plan to send us all home to our families and you'll do breakfast, lunch and dinner at three different places?"

Harry groaned. One wife would have been so much less of a headache.

"I'm still concerned with Natalia. Her family turned on the side they'd pledged loyalty to and their reputation hasn't been unearned since," Fleur said and then huffed a breath out her nose.

"The ritual will take care of any questions on Natalia's loyalty," Harry replied. "She won't be beholden to her family but to me. I think she's genuine…Besides, the Pavlov's unsavoury way of doing things is needed."

"If you're sure," Fleur said, voicing her doubt.

"And you're doing the ritual tonight, then?" Daphne asked.

"That is the plan, yes."

"Then the final one...49, comes next."

"Yeah…I'd like you both here for it." Harry rubbed the back of his neck. If he wasn't about to be doing another virginity ritual soon, it would have been at the forefront of his mind. But, after his experience with Fleur's ritual, he couldn't help but be equal parts excited and apprehensive.

This wasn't a magical ritual for sharing a gift with a partner. In essence, this was almost the magical domination of another. She'd be his. Never looking at another man, her magic subservient to his. No oath, nor any ability to work against or betray him would be possible. It sounded almost like magical slavery except he couldn't see Salazar advocating for that.

Unwavering loyalty, he could see the man pushing, advocating for. But not magical slavery. Who would want to be shackled to a partner that could never be more than a mere servant?

Magic was complicated and illogical, at times. An allowance for free will and the curtailing of it at the same time was always required. Either way, it was a ritual she had to be willing to do. She would have to choose this, him.

The two exchanged a look and Fleur replied for them, "We will be, 'arry."

Harry had expected nothing less. He gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

"What do you two think of the Third Task, keeping it the same but moving it to a secure site was a little surprising?" Daphne said, asking the two champions for their thoughts from the press conference they'd just come from.

"It's not something we can talk about. Everyone involved has sworn an oath, including us. No revealing the location." Harry said, shooting an apologetic look at Daphne.

"I 'ave more confidence with it being removed from 'ogwarts."

Harry nodded, he felt the same. Hogwarts had been infiltrated, again, this year. The place wasn't secure and moving it to the World Cup stadium felt like a better option. All Harry hoped for was a clean task without outside interference and no war with an Acromantula Colony.

"So long as we make it out, I don't care about the blasted tournament," Harry said. "I just want Fleur and I to get through this and move on."

"Given your ridiculous plan, I don't see why you should be so worried about the tourney," Daphne said, grousing about the plan she hadn't been keen on since hearing bits and pieces of it.

Harry went to retort but Fleur spoke up first. "Some of us 'ave faith in 'arry. I'll be going with 'im," she said, adamantly, placing her hand on his thigh.

"It's not up for discussion," Harry said and placed his hands on Fleur's.

"If you're throwing your life away, it _should _be," Daphne said, her voice cold enough to freeze water.

"Everything I do is with survival in mind. That has always been my goal - survival."

With that, Harry stood, extricating himself from Fleur but not before giving her a peck on the lips. "It's time for me to meet Natalia."

To Harry's slight surprise, Daphne stood and gave him a quick kiss. They hadn't gone all the way yet and Harry wondered if it was strictly because of his plan. If she believed there was a decent chance he didn't survive it then it could be considered prudent to remain a virgin until he made it through it.

That might have bothered him at some point but her pragmatism was one of the things he truly appreciated about her.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"When you asked me to come here, I thought you were crazy," Natalia said before taking another mouthful of pink cotton candy. "I'd heard muggles had invented these sorts of places but I had no idea they could be this much fun!" She stuffed another handful of cotton candy in her mouth.

"I'd never been to one before but I thought it'd be a lot of fun."

"I'd just expected to have a Funday with you," she said, bumping her shoulder into his.

Harry took a step to balance himself and grinned at Natalia. "I thought it might be fun to just do something normal," he said as he swung his arm around her.

Natalia nuzzled into the contact. "Why did we come here though?"

Harry gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I like being with you. I feel like we're normal teens. Just out for a date. No magic, no politics. Just me and you."

Natalia leaned into him. "I enjoy that too, Harry," she said. "But today is the day that Father signed the contract. I'm loving being here with you but that's in the back of my head..."

Harry nodded his head and slipped his hand down into her mid-back, guiding her to a little table to sit at. With a flick of his wand, privacy spells were up. "There's one more condition that your family doesn't know about. Something only you can decide."

"Wh-what is it?" Harry could tell Natalia had been caught off guard.

"I have a ritual I'd like you to do with me. Fleur did one..." He knew that was a bit of a low blow but Harry needed this to come together.

"What does it do? Am I able to do one? Will I have to do more?" Questions tumbled out of her mouth.

Harry smiled, "It makes us closer. You won't look at any other men; for you, there will just be me."

Natalia looked down at her lap, her hands too restless to be idle as her thumbs moved back and forth. "Is that all?"

Harry shrugged, "Essentially."

"Then why wouldn't you tell my father?" she asked, looking up at him.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. How much should he tell her? He couldn't admit the full truth of the ritual. If they planned to use pre-existing Unbreakable Vows, he couldn't risk tipping them off. "I don't fully understand how it will work but it is supposed to shift your loyalty to me," he said. "Like working against me would be an anathema to you. Might not be possible but it's not supposed to strip free will." Harry threw up his hand, he didn't truly know but it was what he suspected.

Natalia's eyes had lit up when Harry mentioned working against him. "What does the ritual entail? Does it involve blood or spells, or?"

"I've got to paint some runes on us. The ones on you in my blood and the ones on me in your blood." Harry grinned as Natalia scrunched her nose up at that prospect. "Upon penetration, the ritual takes effect. It's not entirely clear what happens but I'd gather we finish and so does the ritual."

Natalia's cheeks had gained a crimson hue, though they were not as bad as the topic had once garnered. For Harry, after being with Fleur, fooling around with Daphne and Natalia, it had been a lot easier to talk about, even somewhat openly. Though, he would never give Sirius or anyone else any of the lurid details.

"Okay," she said, in a small voice.

"Okay?"

"Okay. I'll do it," she said, looking up, her eyes meeting his.

"Just like that?" Harry asked, feeling uncertain about the easy acceptance.

"Just like that," she echoed. "I love you, Harry."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The first thing Harry felt upon waking were soft delicate touches along his jaw. It took him a moment to realize that it was a pair of lips, working down his face and continuing to kiss down his neck.

Harry cracked his eyes open and saw the top of Natalia's head.

"Morning," he murmured, his lips having difficulty breaking apart as they were dry and somewhat stuck together. "How do you feel?"

Natalia's descending kisses stopped and she sat up above him, her hips straddling over his, he noticed. Her eyes blazed with emotion, though Harry wasn't certain what it was. Relief, love, hunger, passion, excitement?

"Free," she said before holding his face in her two hands and bending down to give him a searing kiss, a kiss that woke up all of him.

Harry ignored his body's reaction and their suggestive position.

They'd done the ritual. He was sure of that. He'd painted the runes, he'd had everything set up and stated. But after penetration, it had all been a blur.

His magic had been called forth with such intensity that it'd made him light-headed. It was all he could do to focus on moving his body. Instincts had taken over and he'd no idea if he'd even given her pleasure.

It had just been about reaching a goal, one he hadn't been mindful of.

Finish. Finish as fast as possible.

As he gazed up into the third young woman he was now engaged to, betrothed to. "Free?" he questioned, quirking his head.

"Free," she repeated, nodding and then giving him another soul-searing kiss.

Harry groaned, he wanted to give in to his hormones but his mind was too inquisitive. He had to know what the ritual had done to her.

"Natalia," he said, heavily breathing out her name as he disengaged their lips. "Free? How so?"

"Free, light, unencumbered!" she exclaimed. "Whenever I was with you, my magic was constantly _constricting_. I couldn't say the wrong thing. I had to act so it would benefit the _Pavlov_ _family._"

Harry's eyes narrowed even as his eyebrows knit together. "They had oaths and vows controlling you?"

"Controlling?" she laughed, a bitter mocking, sarcastic laugh full of resentment. "Imagine being a slave. Imagine being taught to be the perfect daughter from the moment you could walk and talk. Obey the family. _Always_ do as you're told. Work to strengthen our position by _any_ means necessary." She shook her head and then, almost as if she was a puppet whose strings had been cut, she fell onto him.

Natalia nuzzled into him and Harry basked in their closeness. While it was physical, to describe it as such would be inadequate. There was something between them now that felt magical, almost spiritual.

She hummed in contentment. "It's all gone now. I'm yours, I can feel it." The joy in her voice was palpable. "I'm no longer trying to find a way to work within the confines of my oaths to do what I want. I'm no longer trying to convince my magic that what I want to do fits the confines of what I'd sworn to do."

"It worked then," he said, his hand alternating between gently massaging and running his fingers through her hair. "The ritual was meant to magically shift your allegiance to me. To ensure I knew you were not controlled by your family, or anyone else."

"I knew it," she whispered, her body clinging to his.

Harry felt it before he heard it. Her shoulders shook, her back and abdomen contracted, as sobs wracked her body. He couldn't see her face but he felt wet tears drop onto his shoulder.

She wasn't just crying, Natalia was sobbing. And given the way she clung to him, Harry didn't think she was upset with him.

He kept massaging her head and running his hand down her hair with his free arm, the other being trapped underneath her. Harry kept doing his best to comfort the girl but the only thing he figured would end this would be for her to cry herself out.

How long it kept up, Harry hadn't bothered to try and figure out. All that mattered was the girl still clutched onto him.

"Are you better?" he asked after the sobs had stopped and her breathing had levelled out.

Natalia pushed herself up, just enough so she could look him in the eye. "I'm great," she said, her eyes were all red and puffy, her face marred by endless tears and red marks where she'd had her face pressed against him.

"Can you tell me why you were crying? It wasn't because you were upset with me?"

Natalia's lips curved into a soft smile. "I'm _free_, Harry."

Harry nodded his head, feeling a flash of irritation that he kept asking and the answers weren't entirely forthcoming.

"Imagine living your life under someone else's control," she said. "Think of playing quidditch with an anchor attached to you. Sure, you'll get used to it and it will even help you dive faster. But it's _always_ there. Physically weighing you down and taking a mental toll on you too. No matter where you go, no matter what you do, you'll always have that anchor dragging you down, holding you back."

Harry took in her words and the first thing that came to mind was his time with his relatives. They'd held him back, kept him from achieving anything. They had been needlessly cruel and abusive. Were Natalia's parents like that, in a different sort of way?

"You know, I hated you when we met," she giggled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"Wh-what?"

"I was told..._forced to_ get to know you. Instructed to find a way to attend the Yule Ball," she sighed and flopped back down onto him. "I didn't want to get to know you, I didn't want to try and entice you, but...you were so sweet."

"Sweet?" Harry almost choked on the word.

"Yes," she said, giggling. "I thought you'd be arrogant or just try and get with me because of my family. You didn't even know who they were."

"Hey," Harry said. "I learned quickly."

"You did," she said, smiling. "But it was so hard for me. I actually liked you but had to follow my family's wishes."

"And you can speak openly now, on that?" Harry guessed but some confirmation would be nice.

"I-I think so?" Natalia said, frowning into his shoulder.

"If you were restricted by vows, would it not warn you?"

Natalia didn't respond immediately. "I...think so? It has in the past."

"Well, why don't you just walk me through things with us."

"Us?"

"Yeah, how we got together, from your perspective," Harry said before dropping a kiss on her forehead.

"We almost didn't," she told him. "Lacroix likes you and didn't want you involved. She likes me too and thought it could end, well, like this."

Harry squeezed her shoulder, pulling her into him. "I'm glad she did."

"My family wanted me to charm you," Natalia said with a shake of her head. "But I didn't want to. I'd been trying to keep from getting close to anyone."

"Why?"

Natalia tucked her chin down towards her chest and clung to him. Her breathing became shallower and Harry could feel her heart racing in her chest. "B-b-b-" she began trying to explain but she couldn't spit out the words. A sob escaped her.

Harry began rubbing her bare back with his hand. "It's alright," he said. "Just take your time, we're not going anywhere."

She nodded rapidly and then kept quiet, only moving her hand to caress his chest.

"The Pavlov family has gained power through fear and _betrayal_," she whispered the last word and kept her head lowered.

"Fear I know about," Harry said, slowly, after thinking on her words for a few seconds. "Viktor warned me, others too. But betrayal? Does that refer to Grindelwald?"

Natalia shook her head. "No."

"Your family plans on betraying me, then?" Harry pushed himself up into a half-sitting position and frowned down at her.

Natalia clung to him and shook her head, then brought it to rest on his hip. "Well, they do, but I don't think they can compel me to betray you now."

"They had you make an unbreakable vow," Harry stated, frowning.

"It's how they work. Swear to always put the family first. Swear to always be working towards the Pavlov family's benefit. Swear to never betray or work against the family," she said, firing them off one after another. "There are so many that I don't even know how many I've been forced to swear. All are designed to work towards the betterment of the family, and that includes _betraying _the family you marry into."

"I don't get how the betrayal would work, though," Harry said. "You're required to swear an Unbreakable vow to not be able to do that to me."

Natalia looked up at him, her eyes equally despondent and critical. "It's in the wording and intent. Father made sure to include actively," she said. "That's the key. My family has a passive way of passing along information. All I need to do is get you to say something incriminating and it gets caught."

"Then you have something incriminating, and you can use that leverage to extract things from me," Harry said, understanding dawning on him.

"There are a number of terms that they planned to extract from you to add to the contract. Birthing the Potter or Black Heir being the primary one to target."

Harry looked down at her and then away. "I knew the contract negotiations were too easy," he said. "The read I had on your family was they cared far less about rehabilitating their public image than what Horace, Cyrus and Patrice had thought."

"If you always betray people, it will never be that great," Natalia said with a shrug.

"But with the ritual, you are free to tell me about all this and are loyal to me now?" He looked down at her, their eyes meeting.

"I'm free, Harry," she said, a large sweet smile blossoming on her face.

Harry nodded, a matching smile coming to his face. He'd have to get details on how they passively collect information and ensure he was set up to _never_ allow leverage to be gained over him. And, now that he was thinking about it, he would be sure to discuss this with Horace. Bringing this up with his allies might be a good idea too…

But as Natalia pulled herself up and into his lap, those thoughts were driven from his mind.

He may not recall too much about the actual ritual but he was going to be sure to savour this moment as Natalia positioned herself on him.

"I'm free and I'm yours."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Harry woke with a start. Sleep had done it's best to elude him all night. Even with spending the afternoon with Natalia and then having Fleur do her best to wear him out at night. Even with that, he couldn't sleep anything more than a few restless, fitful winks…

Things had started out well with the three girls now engaged to him but the time between the last ritual and the next one had flown by. With the 49th ritual this close, his mind had been far too preoccupied to sleep.

This day had finally come and his rest had been worse than the night before a major quidditch game. Worse than the lead up to the first and second task.

Harry let his hands mechanically run up and down Cuddle's scales. His amazing, wonderful familiar had known.

They were connected, how could she not know?

Normally she didn't sleep on the bed with Harry but tonight had been an exception. Once Fleur had fallen asleep, Cuddles had kept him company. She settled right onto his chest and kept him company all night as his mind raced, worried, wondering, what was coming the next day.

After softly shaking his head, he cast a wandless charm and saw that it was just after six now.

Harry rolled his head to his right and brushed a lock of hair out of Fleur's face. He rubbed the back of his fingers against her cheek a couple of times then placed a kiss on it.

It was time to get up and go see what this day would bring. Just thinking that was enough to fill his stomach with angry butterflies. Already he could feel his heart was beating far faster than it should be upon just getting up for the day.

His body knew it, his mind knew it, and he had no doubts that his magic did too. It was restless, imbalanced, and demanded resolution. A final ritual to bring completion to his magical development.

He thought back on Apolline's words. He was locked into three girls now and had heeded her advice. Maybe it wasn't necessary, maybe it was. At the very least, it was one less thing to concern himself with.

After taking care of his need to micturate, he made his way to the study. Standing outside the closed door, he reached forward to open the door. His hand was shaking, his arm was unsteady. He used the other hand to steady his arm and tried to calm his breathing.

But nothing wasn't working.

His free arm was shaking too. His heart was beating erratically and he was having trouble handling his nervousness.

Today was the day he'd either pass and balance his magic or do his best to avoid whatever had befallen all the previous potential heirs.

He'd struggled to get the door open but he'd eventually managed it. Harry then made his way to the desk and opened the drawer that contained the ritual book and the journal.

It was glowing.

Harry took a deep breath and, with unsteady fingers, he opened the book to the latest journal entry.

_Perspective is a fascinating thing. When you are young, impatient, and lacking experience, you lack perspective, no matter how much you may rant, rave, or believe it to be untrue. It is a fallacy of youth. You know so little that you lack the perspective to understand how much you truly do not know. It is only once you have learned a great deal that you begin to understand how little you truly do._

_It is not until you are wise and full of experience that you are capable of making the decisions you ought to have earlier in your life._

_Perspective._

_A truly wondrous gift and a horrendous curse._

_You are so impertinent, impatient._

_A toddler cannot wait to become a child. A child wants to grow big and strong- so they are more capable. An adolescent wishes to gain their independence and freedom. Yet, an adult can look back at their youth with fondness and with regret. Regret because they were too focused on progressing that they hadn't taken the time to just enjoy the stage of life they were in._

_It is only with perspective that one can look back and reconsider their actions, their choices, their life._

_I've said it before, and I will say it again: death humbles all._

_You are at the end, my heir._

_I have counselled you in love._

_I have counselled you in character._

_I have given you my understanding and feel for magic._

_I have tried to shape you into the young man that I wish I could have been._

_I have toiled and tarried for months on end to fashion a tool capable of ensuring my legacy lives on. Though, that is not truly what I have done._

_Though you may be my heir, you will not be a Slytherin._

_I am Salazar Slytherin._

_Salazar Slytherin is the name I have taken on. I have fashioned my own legend and it shall stand alone. My gift of parseltongue shall be passed on but not my name._

_Slytherin is a name reviled, curse, praised, hated, glorified and, above all, it is _ _ **mine** _ _, and mine alone._

_Then what are you, you must be wondering. You, you who stands at the precipice of greatness._

_There will be none after me who understand rituals as I do._

_Millennia of experimentations on rituals have been lost. I can say this with certainty for I have destroyed them. The depravity and abominations which can be created through ritualistic magic are too perverse to allow them to be propagated._

_I have lied, cheated, killed, murdered, butchered, and done unspeakable deeds in my quest for power. It is only after vanquishing my foes, building up such a reputation that few would dare to challenge me, that I have realized how little I have accomplished._

_For now, at the end of my days, what is the value of my knowledge? When my mistakes have caught up to me._

_What am I left with?_

_A house at a school that will outlive us all and eclipse our own achievements. Or is it the lackwits I have for offspring?_

_What is it? What am I left with? My pride? My prestige? My vaunted knowledge and power? What meaning do these have to I that will perish in a matter of weeks? What good does it do me?_

_There are muggle philosophers, there are muggle priests, and yet none of them have even an iota of understanding of magic. They speak of afterlives, they speak of resurrections and reincarnations. They speak to the meaning of life but they are fools. Imbeciles that have less understanding of the world than mine own familiar._

_I have spent a great deal of time evaluating students, seeing if any of them could live on as my legacy. After years of arduous professorship, I have been left with a single conclusion: None are worthy._

_How could they be? How could I teach any of them all they would need to know when they lack parseltongue?_

_It became evident that there was a sole purpose for the remainder of my life. A single task drove me and, as I write this, I can tell you I have been successful, that it is complete._

_Your entire tutelage has been of my design. I have given you every advantage that you will need to become the man I wish I could have been. With my affinity for magic, seven sets of seven rituals, and a grounding in magical knowledge, you are prepared to craft a legacy of your own._

_But, this has been the easy part. For gifting knowledge uninhibited is an errand in foolery. Anyone can be taught but not all learn. All can hear but how many listen? Even among those who listen, too few comprehend._

_Gifting power to any halfwit that can read is beyond mere imprudence._

_There had to be a test, a way that I could ensure that what I have taught had sunk in and whoever followed after me I could ensure they would be a suitable legacy._

_A Legacy._

_My legacy._

_A Legend in the making._

_Progeny is the way we live on. The utmost goal, then, becomes the ensurement that those who succeed you are left better off than when you were at birth. It is this goal that the muggle philosophers fail to understand. It is this truth of nature that the priests fault to comprehend. We live on through those that we raise._

_Thus, it is my final task. To ensure the knowledge and power I have accumulated is passed to a sole individual. One capable of succeeding my legacy, one that I will know beyond any shadow of a doubt that is worthy._

_Worthy._

_Are you worthy, my heir?_

_Did you heed my words on love? Did you grasp the lessons I tried to impart from the failures in mine own life?_

_Are you a young man of character? Can you persevere through any and all circumstances, and stay true to who you are?_

_I have not made you all-powerful. I have not given you the spells to destroy your enemies. Instead, I have given you a foundation. A foundation built on strength of character, of a wholesome understanding of magic, and a way to carry yourself, fashion yourself into ensuring you achieve the goals and tasks you set for yourself._

_There are no strings attached. There are no more commands upon completing 49 rituals._

_Heed my words, my heir. I am Salazar Slytherin._

_The final ritual is the end. After its completion, you will have my full library. Every shred of knowledge I have accumulated is there, waiting to be unlocked. The powerful spells are there. The lost knowledge is there. Anything I have studied is there. Written down in parseltongue, so all of my vast wealth of knowledge will avail your endeavours._

_Take it. Grasp it. Become a legend that eclipses my own._

_There is one final ritual, one final test._

_I have told you to protect your loved ones. I have lectured and written about the importance of such, but how can you do so if you die?_

_How can you ensure that you'd leave a lasting legacy if you die or fail?_

_Power attracts attention. Power demands a challenge._

_You cannot become as powerful as you are without notice._

_Will you allow a sole failure to ensure your destruction? Will you allow your death to be the desecration of all that you hold dear?_

Harry dropped his head into his hands and then used them to rub his forehead. His heart was beating erratically and he pictured Fleur, Natalia, Daphne. Horace, Sirius, and anyone else he cared about, their faces flashed through his mind.

Voldemort was coming for him. Could he guarantee he'd live through their inevitable confrontation?

It was the unspoken elephant in the room when he met with his advisors.

If Harry failed, they were all doomed.

It fueled his urgency, it made him press on with his studies and go harder in his training beyond where others would have stopped.

He desired survival. He'd gotten with Natalia, Fleur, and with Daphne to ensure he lived long enough to have children. That he lived long enough to _raise_ his children.

Salazar asked what would he do? What would he sacrifice to ensure his loved ones were protected?

The question was worded wrong. It wasn't what he was willing to do but how little he _wouldn't _do.

Harry picked his head out of his hands and let it drop into the chair. He sat there, letting his thoughts run wild as he worked to calm himself.

Was this affecting him so strongly because it was written in parseltongue? The thought came to his mind and he had a hard time shaping it. It was one of the worries of his. With the strength of its ability to pass along magic, was it doing something to his mind?

The question was unanswerable but a persistent concern. Much like the answer to the question. Harry had already assassinated a man to deprive the opposing side of a powerful asset. Was this a path that led to him becoming a monster?

At times it seemed like it, felt like it, but where were Tom Riddle's loved ones? Where was his wife, his partner? Where were his trusted advisors to guide him? It was those around him that made him believe that he wasn't going to allow himself to become a Dark Lord.

With his own faith buoyed, he turned his attention back to the book.

_I challenge you, my heir. Do __**whatever**_ _is necessary to protect yourself. Delve into the pits of despair if it will protect your loved ones. For, at the end of the day, what is the difference between a man who has done no wrong and one that has lived a barbaric life overflowing with villainy?_

_Will the earth fail to reclaim the decayed body of the righteous man? Would it reject the villainous man?_

_Of course not. For death claims us all. Death humbles us all._

_Then this I leave you with, my heir._

_The final ritual. A final gift. A way to protect yourself from failure._

_The final ritual is a method of taking your soul and storing it, containing it._

If Harry had been holding the book, he would have dropped it.

Storing your soul?! Containing it?!

A Merlin forsaken Horcrux!? A Horcrux!

Horcrux!

The unspeakable evil, of damning your soul to shatter and break, through an act that is beyond vile.

No.

NO!

This couldn't be it.

_Herpo the Foul created the Horcrux. But I have perfected it. A way to not __**split**_ _the soul but to bind your soul to an object._

Harry's heart pounded in his chest. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his palms were clammy. The breath he exhaled was one he had been holding, unknowingly. In and out, slow and deep, he just sat there, staring at the words.

_Not_ a Horcrux.

He chanted those words over and over in his head.

He was willing to commit despicable acts for survival and his loved one's protection… But a Horcrux? The worst thing Riddle had done, according to Horace? No. That was crossing a line he _wouldn't_.

_The full ritual is in the book. Let me warn you, there will be no greater pain that you can experience in your life than this. Fight through it, master it, and do not stray from the instructions._

_Do this, do what is necessary. Live well, love well. Live a full life and rise to your full potential. Eclipse my legacy._

_Stay true to yourself._

_Be better than I._

_Be more._

_Be worthy._

_Become my true heir._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Triage & Nauze for the beta work on this one, again!  
Feels great to get to this part now and I’m looking forward to finally getting to write the scenes in the next chapter. Should be a ton of fun!
> 
> Taliesin19 & I took part in the Flowerpot (Harry x Fleur) Discord Server’s Flowerpot Garden Event, which was for getting Harry x Fleur one-shots written by authors on the server. I think there were a dozen new one-shot’s dropped yesterday. Mine & Tal’s is called Edelweiss, it's 18k words and it's on the SalTal Studios account. The story is in my bookmarks and I joined the collection too.
> 
> Link to their discord is: discord . gg / Np2zjAH (without spaces)


	48. Thump-Thump

_Stay true to yourself._

_Be better than I._

_Be more._

_Be worthy._

_Become my true heir._

That was it. The final words on the final page. The final chapter of Salazar Slytherin's memoir.

Harry sat back, shut his eyes, and let it all sink in.

Be more. Be worthy, become my true heir.

If someone had told him those would've been the final words from his teacher, he wouldn't have believed it.

And yet, the final page left a question, a concern.

Harry had been following Tom Riddle's path and he'd had a sneaking suspicion that the trail would lead to a choice, a decision. One that he'd either fail and fall, or one that would differentiate him from Voldemort entirely.

He had two choices here. Do the ritual or do not.

Not doing the ritual would mean leaving the magic unbalanced and would end in his death.

That result was _guaranteed_.

The only slim chance he'd have would be to devise a 49th ritual that balanced his set of seven _and_ the entire set altogether.

Daphne had access to the academic side of ritualistic knowledge, but nothing on the practical side. Harry had the opposite and he was certain it had been done this way so he wouldn't be able to craft an alternative to the final ritual.

He was on a train, the tracks ahead were split, and his momentous momentum was such that he had little choice but to go one way or the other. Stopping or getting off the train hadn't been an option for a long time now. All that he had left to do was select which track he'd end on.

But this still left him with the issue of how it had led to Riddle doing Horcruxes?

Slughorn had told him that he thought Riddle's knowledge of Horcruxes and the idea of seven came _later_...unless he knew of Horcruxes from somewhere else, prior to this?

Harry sighed and pulled on his hair. This was going to suck. Mess with his soul or die.

Of those, he really had only one path forward. Mess with his soul, experience excruciating pain, and become worthy.

He wasn't sure if it was relief or apprehension that he felt as Daphne came into the study. She looked at him, her eyes full of worry as she frowned at him, his hands were still pulling on the ends of his hair.

"That bad?" she asked, heading towards her favourite chair.

Harry nodded his head. "The ritual is an improved version of the Horcrux ritual."

His words caused Daphne to halt mid-step. "H-Horcrux?"

It was as Daphne sputtered out the word that Fleur came in. A frown immediately marred her face when she heard the word. "_Non_, 'arry. You must not do _any _soul rituals."

"It's not a horcrux. Salazar claims it's an improved version," Harry said, though the words rang hollow even to his own ears.

"Improved or not, soul magic is still soul magic," Fleur said, crossing her arms.

He smiled at that, she looked so cute when she was upset at him. "What would you have me do, then?" Harry asked, a feeling of tiredness overcoming him. "Not do a forty-ninth ritual?"

"Non, but you 'ave time, 'arry," she replied, her voice softer and sympathetic. "I can ask maman to petition for the conclave for 'elp as you are my mate."

Fleur made her way to him and crouched down to his height. "Don't do it, 'arry," she pleaded, her blue eyes shining."All anyone needs to know about soul rituals is that they shouldn't _ever _be done."

"Perhaps he should open the ritual book and see what he has to do?" Daphne said, interjecting into Fleur's plea. "We know the horcrux ritual requires callous murder as a part of it. If there isn't any killing, then it can't be an actual Horcrux ritual."

Harry found himself nodding along as Daphne spoke. He took her advice and pulled out the ritual book, reading it over. As he read through it he discovered how it was done. "It's...just...a spell?"

"Nothing but a single spell?"

"Yeah, that's it," Harry said, frowning before he answered Daphne. "I just have to channel the spell and let it do its work. The longer I channel the spell, the more difficult and painful it will be. The notes recommend I keep going until I pass out, if I can."

"Until you pass out? Until you run out of magic or succumb to pain?" Daphne raised an eyebrow.

Harry looked at her. "It doesn't specify," he said with a shrug. Just says to keep on going until I can't."

"Does it describe the effects?" Fleur asked as she stood back.

"It says there would be a magical outline of me," Harry said, almost squinting as he read back over it more carefully. "And...then it looks like it separates and is pulled from my body? The further it is pulled, the more excruciating it will be."

"What about the object?" Daphne asked, her intelligent eyes watching him closely. "Are there any requirements for it?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head, his eyes still looking at the book. "Just about any object will do. It recommends something that has value though."

"Wouldn't want to make it something that could be misplaced or lost easily," Daphne reasoned. "It'll have a piece of your soul in it."

Harry looked back at her, the cool detached way she could look at things was admirable. It was quite a contrast to Fleur who would have a storm raging around her if emotions were localized weather.

"Should I test the spell?" Harry asked, just wanting to get this figured out. If it required channelling just casting it briefly should be fine?

"_Non!_ If you're going to play around with your soul, we should seek others' help," Fleur said. "You can do it anytime today, non?"

Harry frowned and then nodded. That was a fair point. "I can...but who would I ask?"

"Slughorn knows _about_ Horcruxes but not the mechanics of _this_ ritual," Daphne said, crossing one leg over the other. "In my family, I'm the most knowledgeable…"

"I'd have considered Dumbledore," Harry said, closing the ritual book. "But if I bring up rituals and soul magic...I'm not sure how he'll respond."

The threat on his life had been the last real interaction with the man. Dumbledore would be knowledgeable, but to what degree? Bringing the topic up could cause a whole heap of trouble. "No, I can't trust him to look out for me."

Harry looked from Daphne to Fleur, the former not having any other ideas.

"_Maman_," Fleur said, after a moment. "I don't know 'ow much she knows but she taught me the Veela ones and warned me off soul magic."

Harry found himself agreeing with that. Apolline had been aware of his foray into rituals. She'd discussed them and their potential to affect emotions with him. He glanced over at Daphne and received no more than a curt nod.

"Alright, Apolline is one candidate and the only other person I'd consider is Flitwick," Harry said, making up his mind on the plan for the day. "I'll sound out Flitwick; he has a vast knowledge of all sorts of magic."

"'E'd be good," Fleur said, placing her hand on his arm. "You'll talk to both?"

"I think so," Harry replied. He was about to say more but sensed Cuddles returning from her morning hunt. Normally he'd have been training but today wasn't a day he was going to be bothering with that.

Harry looked to the door and watched Cuddles fly into the room. She went right to him and clutched onto his shirt, holding on to him vertically on his chest. An unbidden smile came to him and he brought the hand that wasn't touching Fleur up to hold her in place. His thumb and fingers moved of their own volition, the muscle memory used to simultaneously hold and pet Cuddles.

"Do you want us there with you, or do you want to talk to them by yourself?" Daphne asked, her neutral expression impossible to read.

Harry looked at Fleur and had hoped she might indicate a preference but she did not. He dropped his gaze to Cuddles and kept up his petting of miniature dragon.

At the end of the day, this was his life, his decision. He knew he had their support, Natalia's too. He wouldn't begrudge Fleur coming to visit her mum but he hoped it was just him. He wanted to hear and go through this alone.

It wasn't that he was going to do this solo, not at all. It just felt like he needed some time to talk to people he trusted and come to a decision on his own. Fleur was wholly against this. Daphne was for him living, though she hadn't come out and given an actual opinion yet. Natalia, he thought, would be on the side of doing the ritual. She'd understand him doing nasty things that were necessary.

"I'd prefer to go alone," Harry said, his eyes coming back up to look between the two of them. "If that's okay."

Daphne shot him a half-smile as she stood. "I'll research anything I can in here about it. I'll be here all day, Harry."

Harry swallowed as he nodded. He looked to Fleur and rubbed her arm. "If you'd like to go alone, I can 'elp search 'ere."

"Thanks," he said and then squeezed her arm.

"Is Natalia coming, or is she too busy with ballet?" Daphne asked the seemingly innocuous question that they knew was anything but.

Harry sighed, they deserved an explanation but he'd held off. "Natalia is...adjusting."

"Adjusting?" Fleur questioned sharply, her blue eyes cold and hard as ice.

"Yeah," Harry said, running his hand through his hair. "She's had a major change."

"You didn't tell us how the ritual went, yet," Daphne said, from off to Harry's left, her fingers running over the spines of books.

"It went well," Harry said, gripping Fleur's arm once more. "She's loyal but there's a lot to it…"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Harry," Flitwick said, squeaking his name after catching sight of him entering his office. "This is a surprise." He offered Harry the chair at his desk.

Harry twitched his finger to the side and the chair pulled out from the desk. He stood in front of it and then repeated the trick to have it slide under him.

"Impressive as always," Flitwick said, chuckling as he did so. "But what brings you here, now, Harry?"

Their lessons were always later in the day and Harry had made a point to not disturb him or McGonagall during the day. "I'm nearing the end of my rituals…" Harry paused and thought over what he should divulge, again.

"There is a ritual that is beyond what you'd be comfortable doing?" Flitwick asked, a knowing glint in his eye as he pushed the parchment he had been marking off to the side.

"Yes," Harry admitted, his restless hands ringing together. "Though I worry about the consequence of not doing it."

Flitwick dipped his chin. "Is it a moral element or in a field of magic that makes you ill at ease?"

Harry looked down at his clasped together hands. His fingers and thumbs were far from idle even conjoined. He looked back up, "Magical."

"It's a magical issue, not something you have to do to make the magic work?" Flitwick's eyes were narrowed but they held no accusation in them.

"No," Harry shook his head. "It's the effect that I'm worried about. The ritual itself is fine."

Flitwick hummed but did not say anything else. After a few seconds of silence, he withdrew his wand. "Magic, Harry, has four pillars."

"Creativity, Magical power, Intent and Willpower." The raven-haired youth intoned from memory.

"Indeed," Flitwick said, without looking at Harry, his focus entirely on his wand. A small stream of water came forth from the wand, extending out six inches and then it coalesced into a small ball of water.

"Magic is supremely simple," he said, not taking his focus off the slowly expanding ball of water. "Each pillar is so simple to understand; and yet, how they work in tandem is incredibly complex."

The ball of crystal clear water continued to be fed more and more water and Flitwick brought forward his off-hand, bringing it alongside the water and thrusting it forward, he forced the ball of water to spin, his fingers coming as close to touching it as possible, without doing so.

"Magic is balance, it is nature," he said, his eyes flicking over to look at Harry. "It is a part of the world, bound by it, and yet it is not."

"What do you mean, Professor?" Harry asked, his voice quiet and eyes darting back and forth between him and the spinning ball of water.

"I have just done the impossible. I have created something from nothing. A natural element, something that is a part of this world and follows the physical rules," Flitwick explained as the ball of water spun faster and grew larger, coming to be about half a foot in diameter now.

"I created this, I imparted my will on the world. I imagined it, intended to make it, and used my power to create something that goes against nature itself," Flitwick said. He had a soft smile on his face and it was incredibly easy to understand how much the man loved to teach.

"Not natural but as it grows, it feels heavy, it wants to come apart and splash all over the ground. But, when I apply physical laws, when I spin it, providing centrifugal force, it requires less power, creativity, will and even less intent." It was just after speaking that he stabbed his wand forward into the ball of water and with a single downward slash, he vanished it all.

"When nature and magic work in cohesion, you achieve great results. However, when you use magic to go against nature, the costs are significant."

Harry nodded, he already knew this and was unsure of where this was leading. He turned his chin slightly to the right as he narrowed his eyes, thinking hard. Instead of being impatient and asking for him to get to the point, Harry waited quietly, trying to keep calm, cool and collected.

"There are some that would argue it is only your intent that matters," Flitwick said, placing his wand down onto the desk, his finger steepling together. "But I've always believed this to be in error. If you are doing something _wrong_ but for the right intent, you are still doing something _wrong_."

Harry nodded, Salazar had talked about the blending of the four pillars so none could work alone. Pureness of intent, alone, wouldn't be enough to absolve oneself, in Harry's opinion.

"What does intent matter when you have the will to do evil, wrong?" Flitwick asked. "How does intent remove your ability to create and power evil?"

Harry swallowed, his eyes meeting the professor. "I don't think it does," he said, thinking about the death of Lucius Malfoy. No matter how pure his intent to do good, by committing that act, it still bothered him, _tainted_ him.

"You asked about being uncomfortable with a ritual," Flitwick said, bringing the topic back to the start of their conversation. "You've come a long way in magical sensing and I believe you should trust in that sense."

"You think if I _feel_ something off that I shouldn't do it?" Harry said, not meaning to fully question the man's words but that response had seemed inadequate given all the build-up to it.

Flitwick chuckled, the noise emanating from him coming out equal parts light laughter and softened squeals. "Yes and no," he said, his eyes flashed with amusement for just a second. "The point I was making was that if you are already worried about the effect it will have, then listen to your magic."

Harry eyed the man, his lips thinning as his eyebrows squished together. He hadn't understood the difference and was still struggling to come up with it.

"How difficult is it? Is it heavy, thick and terribly difficult to perform? Is it going against nature at a fundamental level?"

Harry's eyes widened and his hand came up and rubbed his chin. "You're saying, I should be able to tell how _wrong_ it is by how difficult it is to perform?"

Flitwick shook his head slowly. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't already know the ritual is one you shouldn't consider doing," he said, no accusation in his eyes nor voice. "It is the cost that I am warning you of. You know the feel of conjuration, you know what cruel and disgusting magic can feel like. Keep those in mind when you do your ritual. Make sure it's a cost you can bear."

Harry's lips curved into a scowl, "I've not decided to do it yet."

Flitwick gave him a smile that moved naught but his lips, his eyes beheld him in pity this time. Picking up his wand he conjured a perfect sphere. Though Harry didn't know the exact spell, he could feel that the man hardened it.

"Think of this sphere as your body, the empty space as the place for magical power to be stored." As he spoke those words he began to fill the clear sphere with fluid. "Rituals take what you are born with and increase it." He added more liquid into the sphere until it was entirely filled.

"There are various types of goals with rituals, however, one prominent thing always features," he said, his eyes focused on the circle filled with water. "The goal is to increase your magical potential. Densifying the magic, increasing the amount of magic you can hold, protecting your body for having more magic than it can handle…" he trailed off.

"All rituals are about increasing your propensity for magic," Flitwick said, his wand in continual motion as he conjured a protective barrier and placed it between them and the sphere. "The issue most practitioners have is balance. Too much magic and…" he didn't need to say what would occur as the sphere shattered, water bursting forth as it couldn't handle the pressure inside.

"Too much power and not enough capacity to handle it," Harry said, remarking on the result, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"How about now?" Flitwick asked, as he repaired the sphere and only filled it to three-quarters of its full capacity. He then began to swirl the water into different streams that ran in all directions, hammering the boundaries and trying to breakthrough.

"Too much volatility, excitement," Harry said, feeling less and less at ease with the demonstrations. After he'd spoken, it only took a few seconds for the sphere to explode apart.

"You asked me what would happen in a failure to balance your magic," Flitwick said, vanishing everything he had conjured. "Well, without knowing the precise details of your situation, I can't give you specifics. But, as my demonstration shows, your body's ability to contain your magic will fail. It may not be immediate, it may not happen for some time. But, at some point in the future, you'll either have to balance your magic or face a gruelling, painful end.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Harry!" Apolline said, startled by his appearance in her home. "If you're looking for Fleur or Patrice, neither are at home at the moment."

Harry smiled at her gratefully. "I came to talk with you, actually," he said. "I know where Fleur is and I'll meet with her again later."

Apolline smiled at him warmly and closed the distance between them, wrapping him up in a hug. "It is good to see you, my son."

"Thanks," Harry said as they broke apart. She'd taken to calling him that immediately and had told him there was no pressure for him to call him mother. Harry still hadn't come to a decision on but it felt off-putting to do so. She was as close to a mother as he'd ever had but Lily Potter had died for him and it was something he'd never disrespect.

"How is my daughter? I haven't seen her the past few days," Appoline remarked as she led him toward an informal sitting area.

"She's good," Harry said, as he sat down in the chair he always preferred. Large, comfortable and with enough space for Fleur to cuddle up to him.

"I still cannot believe she gained the gift of parseltongue," she said as she took her wand out and conjured water for the tea set. "Tea?"

"Sure, that'd be great," he replied, relaxing into the comfortable seat and inviting presence. The hint of mint in the air was always pleasant to smell as well.

Apolline finished making the tea and floated a cup and saucer to Harry. "So, where is my daughter?"

"She and Daphne are researching something today," Harry said, gently accepting the saucer and cup of hot tea. He brought it closer to his nose and gave it a sniff, it was minty as well.

Apolline arched an eyebrow, "Are they getting along?" she asked. "I know my daughter can be...difficult."

Harry smiled ruefully. "She's more tolerant of Daphne than Natalia. Though, so far, it hasn't been too bad."

"I can see that, Patrice and I were not keen on your association with them," she said, after taking the first sip of her drink. "But, time will tell how wise it was."

"Well," Harry said, "Natalia is loyal, if nothing else. They hold no leverage and I avoided their trap. So far, things have gone well."

"So far," she echoed. "But you didn't come here to talk about the Pavlov family, now did you?" Apolline placed her tea down before folding her hands together.

"No, I came to speak on rituals, again."

"You are at the end then?" she asked, her sharp eyes focusing on him.

"The last one's…" Harry said, his voice heavy while remaining quiet still, "...a soul ritual."

Apolline's eyes widened. She had just begun to bring her teacup back, after having let it momentarily cool down, but now, she froze. "A soul ritual," she said, only her lips moving.

"An improved version of a Horcrux," Harry said, his voice flat and body rigid.

"Or so they say," Apolline said, her tea now delicately balanced on the saucer she held on her lap.

"The ritual is supposed to bind my soul to an object of my choosing," he said, frowning as he began an explanation he would rather avoid.

Apolline pinched her lips together before bringing up her cup and drinking more tea. When the cup no longer blocked the view of her lips, they were still in their earlier position. "You must know my advice already, Fleur is not one to bite her tongue."

Harry bobbed his head, "I wanted to hear what you might know about soul magic." Harry rubbed his forehead as he gazed down into his teacup. If only there were some tea leaves to leave a clear sign of what to do.

But there wasn't. And there wasn't going to be any easy answers. Two terrible choices and no path around the fact he _had _to complete a ritual.

"The soul is sacred. It is a manifestation of self, of magic." Apolline's voice carried through the quiet room, her words strong though lacking in volume. "Magic that uses the soul is amongst the most beautiful."

Harry's forehead creased as he tried to think of a spell or magic that related to the soul.

"The Patronus spell," she said, answering his question. "Is thought to be partly manifested through the soul of the caster. Where some spells have set results and ways to cast them, calling forth a Patronus does not."

Harry watched as she took another sip of tea. There wasn't any sort of sexual attraction to his pseudo-mother. It was admiration and respect. Apolline was astute and knowledgeable. Even just her presence was impressive. She carried herself in such a way that you couldn't help but be impressed. And, it was with humbling realization that Harry came to understand his mate would be like her mother.

"Everyone's being unique and the guardian animal is not one that is consciously shaped by intent." Harry quirked his head in thought after voicing his thought out loud.

"Most good soul magic is obscure and ill-advised to be tampered with. They all revolve around the expression of the soul, not tampering with it." Her sharp words cut through Harry's thoughts and drew his eyes back to her.

"Is it tampering with it though?" Harry asked, as much to himself as to Apolline. "I'm not fracturing it, tearing it apart or doing anything to change it. All it is supposed to do is _bind_ it so that if I fall, if I die, I'll have another opportunity."

"And you don't think that's unnatural?"

Harry's shoulders slumped. That word was one Flitwick had been cautioning him on, his earlier discussion playing over in his mind again. "What option do I have?" he asked, his chin tucked towards his chest but his gaze meeting hers. "Leave my magic horribly unbalanced and try to find a way to balance the seventh set of seven, and the rest of the sets?"

Apolline eyes narrowed, "Have you not already messed around with soul magic?" she asked carefully.

"I know of Horcruxes but I'd _never_ split my soul," Harry said, his eyes blazing at the very idea of it.

"Non," she held up her hand, "that's not what I meant," she said, smiling at him reassuringly, though the smile came out somewhat strained, unlike the large one he always received upon visiting.

"I meant your dragon, Cuddles."

Harry's head snapped back and his eyes widened. "Cuddles?"

"She's a real dragon, one with a soul," Apolline said. "I can tell you that much. A dragon with a soul and somehow imbued and empowered by mixing its own magic and yours."

"I've been experimenting with her," Harry said, a smile tugging on his lips. "Cuddles is special, a happy accident if I'm being honest."

"An accident?" her eyebrows couldn't have climbed any higher if she'd used her fingers to push them up.

"The dragons shouldn't have died," Harry said, admitting one of the things he had been worried about others discovering forever ago, at the start of the tournament. "They'd been drugged and instead of syphoning off draconic magic, leaving them weak, their already overly taxed magic couldn't handle it."

Apolline blinked, then blinked again. "They died because of a ritual you did?" she asked, her tone one of disbelief.

"The Ministry's investigation showed they'd been overdosed and had been put to sleep, literally," Harry chuckled at his word selection for a second before shaking his head. "But they would have had no way to account for the ritual I had done the night before the task.

"When the dragon avatar was in the ritual circle with me, it, along with I, gained some of the dragon's dense magic," Harry said, with Apolline having placed her tea down and leaned forward, listening to every syllable intently. "The best I can figure, some of my magic is in Cuddles and some of hers, and the other dragons, are within me."

"Mon Dieu," Apolline whispered, her hand flying to cover her mouth as the words escaped her lips.

Harry just grinned, after taking a gulp of his lovely lemon and mint tea. "If you think that's something, wait til I tell you about what I've figured out about Cuddles," he said, his eyes alight with mischief, fully enjoying making Apolline astonished. "She has characteristics of all three of the dragons, if you know what to look for, and other things that are _not_ normal for a dragon."

Apolline had regained her composure, though he could tell she was quite enjoying this conversation now, especially, he thought, because it turned away from soul magic. "Cuddle's fire is _corrosive_."

"Corrosive?" Apolline asked, a single eyebrow arched.

"It eats through fire retardant wards, ones designed to stand up to dragon fire," Harry said, grinning once more. It was lovely to just talk and relax, even if it was just a short respite to his mentally, emotionally taxing day.

"I think I'll need more tea for this," Apolline said, shaking her head before floating the kettle and tipping it, so her cup was refilled. "Did you want some?"

"Sure, it'll take a bit to explain," Harry chuckled, getting settled in to discuss the properties of basilisk venom and phoenix tears.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Harry my boy, what's brought you here tonight?" Horace's jolly voice boomed out upon him entering into the man's favourite room to sit in and enjoy a drink.

He wasn't surprised to find the man seated in the same chair as always, a drink in hand. Given the rosiness of his cheeks, it was less than likely it was the first, or second one, for that matter.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked, his eyes alight with merriment.

"Sure, but don't trouble yourself, I'll fix something up," Harry said, having been here on many occasions, he already knew where to find a butterbeer and he'd become accomplished enough to open it wandlessly by now.

Just after he'd sat down and the butterbeer had been grasped by his hand. "Thought you'd be spending the night with one of your lovely fiances," Horace said and then waggled his eyebrows before letting out a deep belly laugh.

"Three girls," he said, shaking his head. "I still remember when you refused to even think about more than one." Slughorn chortled and then gulped down the rest of whatever it was that he had been drinking.

Another bottle floated out and Harry could see he was drinking brandy. He waited for Horace to complete his pour. "I'll be seeing them soon but I wanted to stop by and just chat," Harry said, fingers raking through his dark messy hair.

"Something on your mind?" Horace asked, looking remarkably more sober as he sat up straight.

"Today's the day, if you recall," Harry said, staring at the bottle of butterbeer he hadn't started drinking yet.

Harry had picked the drink, hoping the warmth would uplift his spirit but he could feel the weight of his decisions settling on his shoulder, weighing on his mind so naught but _it _could be present in his thoughts.

"It's bad then?" Horace asked, his voice soft and laced with comfort and understanding. If he'd been close enough he had no doubt the dopey eyed man would lay a hand on his shoulder.

"An improved Horcrux, a binding of my soul to a physical object of my choice," Harry said, the words tumbling from his lips with frightening ease.

The glass Horace had been holding fell out of his slackened grip, dropping, smashing onto the floor. The loud noise from the crash broke him out of his temporary stupor. Horace blinked, three times, in rapid succession. "H-horcrux?" he whispered, the words barely audible.

"Not a horcrux. No murder, no splitting of a soul. Just a binding of it," Harry said, doing his best to be calm, clear, crisp and concise.

Horace stared at him for a full three seconds, repaired the glass and then stood up. On shaky legs, he made it over to the hutch and barely managed to pour himself another. He gulped it down readily, as if it was the first glass of water he'd seen after being stranded in a desert.

"Sorry," he said, turning around to look at Harry, his knuckles white on the hand gripping the glass.

Harry saw he was about to trod through the spilt brandy that had been pungently filling his nostrils and he quickly vanished the spilt liquid.

Horace stepped back to his seat, heedless of Harry's action, the haunted look on his face still. "Just memories, Harry, just brought up..." Horace said, his eyes looking off towards the corner.

"Riddle and Horcruxes, yeah...I know."

There was no need for more. It was a decision that had crippled and guilted him for decades now.

"You said he knew about horcruxes before he asked you?" Harry asked, hoping to bring Horace out of whatever was plaguing his mind.

"What? Oh...yes," he said, some sharpness returning to his eyes after he blinked his eyes.

"Would he have learned the word from Salazar?"

"It's possible," he said, stroking his chin with his forefinger and thumb. "It's possible...I'd thought it might have been referenced to in the restricted section...or, perhaps, a pureblood in Slytherin introduced it to Tom."

Harry nodded, those were both plausible. "What I don't understand is how the final test led to him doing more than 49 rituals." Tom Riddle had been smart. Under Salazar's tutelage, he shouldn't have continued doing rituals.

"Tom was always so sure of himself," Slughorn commented, a frown on his face. "He asked me about seven horcruxes.."

"But from 49 rituals, you need to do 98 more. 3 sets of 7 sets of 7," Harry said, shaking his head vigorously. "Madness."

"Is there more information in the library now?"

"No," Harry said and then let out a sigh. "After the ritual, it should unlock. Fleur and Daphne are trying to see if there is anything that mentions soul rituals there."

"I'm afraid I don't know much, my boy," Slughorn said, forlornly looking down at his empty glass.

"Apolline said they were abominable. That no good has come from messing around with one's soul," he said before taking a sip of his butterbeer, the liquid not providing him with the warmth he'd hoped it would. "But what choice do I have?"

"There's only one choice, Harry," Horace said, his voice strong as he looked at him. "Survive, Harry, survive like Lily tried to. Make a choice you can live with, mitigate the downsides, and ensure your survival."

Harry frowned. "But can I live with mutilating my soul?" He didn't know _exactly_ what the consequences of the ritual to bind his soul would be but from everything he learnt, he understood, meant the price would be exorbitant. Binding one's soul is wholly unnatural. It'd be against the very nature of magic.

"There aren't two options, Harry," Horace said, shaking his head. "Salazar Slytherin would not have his masterwork set be capped off by an abomination. There aren't _two_ choices here, Harry. There is death or survival; just one viable option.

Harry swallowed hard. "I know," he said, his voice croaking. "But I can't become Riddle. I can't…"

Harry shut his eyes. He couldn't, wouldn't succumb to that. It'd be a betrayal of who he was, what his parents had sacrificed themselves for.

He let out a deep breath and worked to calm himself. It wasn't until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder that he realized Horace had stood up.

"Go, Harry," he said, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. "I'm a broken-down drunk old man. Go, trust your heart and those girls you've got. With them, you won't be pointed wrong."

Harry stood and wrapped the man up in a hug that Hermione would have been proud of. "You're not a broken-down old drunk. You're a mentor and a man I admire," Harry said, still holding onto the man with a strong grip. "You've made all the difference and still are playing a crucial role for me."

Beyond the mentoring, the potions lessons, and just being an invaluable confidant, the man was still doing so much for him. Already they were planning out how to work with and confront Dumbledore. The man was too smart to have not known about Riddle's Horcruxes, not after second year.

He was coordinating the engagement party, heading up the political bloc with Cyrus and working on who knew what else. Any mistakes or issues the man had, Harry would overlook.

"Just be like Lily, my boy. Be good, be smart, be pure," Horace said, a sob escaping him. "Don't become Riddle. Don't become a monster like him. Remember your vow to me."

Harry broke the hug but kept his hands on Horace's shoulders. "I thought you said there was only one choice."

Horace patted his arm. "There is, but if it is too wrong, too horrible to consider, then I trust you to follow your heart.

Harry's eyes narrowed, "You think there's a third option?"

"No, but if you can't live with yourself by doing it, then I trust you. You'll do everything you can to find a different option, a way to cap the rituals, or just a way to survive," Horace said, his voice earnest and full of emotion. "Survive all this. Get through the rituals, defeat Riddle, and live a long happy life, my boy. That's what I want for you. That's all I ever wanted for you. Just do that and you'll make this old man proud."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, "I will. I promise."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Well, final thoughts?" Harry asked, sitting in one of the four armchairs around a small, circular table. Natalia, Daphne and Fleur were all with him. The hours left in the day was far shorter than what had already been spent. Cuddles rested on his lap as he stroked along her scales.

"You shouldn't do it," Fleur said, her blue eyes ablaze. "'Orcrux or not, binding your soul to an object is 'orrible."

Harry dipped his chin, not surprised at all by her plea. Neither of them had any luck on learning anything of substance in their time scouring any books they had access to. It had been beyond a long shot, more of an excuse to let Harry go off on his own.

Fleur was sitting to his right and he panned over to Daphne, who was right across from him, to Fleur's left.

"Salazar's ritual instructions have been spot on," she said, her eyes locked on Harry. "You should try the spell and consider Flitwick's advice. I've studied rituals my entire life and I couldn't even begin to try and formulate three sets of three, let alone seven sets of seven."

"So you think I should go through with it?" Harry said, doing his best to keep his actual opinion from being known.

Daphne bit her lip. "I...don't know. Not balancing your magic means death. Binding your soul must have a downside but...we don't know what it is," she said, a strained smile on her face. "Could the consequence be worse than death?"

This was the problem he was facing - two brutal choices.

Fleur huffed a breath out, shaking her head as she looked down at the floor.

"I just want you to survive," Natalia said, her legs pulled up against her chest, her chin resting on her knees. "I want to live with you, have kids, and grow old together. If you have to bind your soul to something, then so be it.

"Live, Harry. Live for me," she said before looking at the other two girls. "Live for _us_."

Wasn't that just it. Only one choice that led to living. But everything he knew about soul rituals was that they should never be done.

It was an unsolvable puzzle.

Salazar said not to pursue power for the sake of power. That the intent of doing such was to be discouraged. That without a proper goal in mind, the mindless pursuit of strength would lead to destruction.

Had he not commented over and over that there are lines you should not cross? That there should be a goal, a reason that is pure and not selfish in nature?

Yet, all of that was contradicted by the goal-orientated philosophy that living and protecting your loved ones was something that should be done at any cost.

Harry let out a deep breath and raked his fingers through his hair. There was a lesson here, he just had to figure it out which one it was.

"I'm going to try doing it," Harry said as he abruptly stood up. Cuddles let out a puff of smoke and glared at him as she was forced to flap her wings or unceremoniously fall to the ground.

He mentally commanded her to fly to Fleur, so the one who was most against it would be somewhat distracted. Harry turned and made his way out of the room, heading to the ritual chamber. Anyone trying to talk after him, he wasn't going to listen.

As he exited the room, he heard voices and the commotion of the girls all getting up to follow after him. He made it to the ritual room and stood in the middle of the circle. He had already set up the ritual and object. It wasn't anything too special. Just a locket he'd had Natalia pick up for him. Plain silver with no pictures or anything else inside of it. Clean and inert of magic.

"'Arry, you don't need to do this, please, for me, don't," Fleur begged as she entered.

Daphne and Natalia filed in after Fleur, both moving off to Fleur's left.

Harry shut his eyes and took in a deep breath. "I can't, Fleur. I do this or I'm screwed."

"There 'as to be another way! It can't be soul magic or death!" Fleur crossed her arms, her eyes burning with righteous fury.

In retrospect, stepping out of the room without discussing his decision wasn't the greatest. "I can't _not_ do this! Don't you see that?"

"Ever since I started by foolishly doing the first ritual without understanding the consequences, I've been screwed." Harry clenched his fists. "Ritual after ritual, I've been on a train that's been picking up speed. Maybe if I'd stopped at the first one, I'd have had a chance."

"Once Harry started, there wasn't an option," Daphne said, her voice soft but strong enough to carry through the room. "Properly follow the directions or screw up and permanently unbalance your magic."

"The same choice Harry's facing now," Natalia added on to Daphne's words. "Would you rather he has a short and painful end to his life, Fleur?"

Fleur turned on the spot and glared at Natalia.

"Enough," Harry said before anything could go past words. "I'm going to give it a try. We've talked about this. I've spent the whole bloody day talking about it."

Harry shook his head as he threw up his hands. "It's simple. I trust that Salazar wanted me to be willing to cross lines to protect all of you or I'm supposed to not do it and figure this out on my own. And seeing as there aren't any of these heirs running around with bound souls, doing the ritual makes more sense."

"Fine, 'arry. Do it." Fleur said and then sat down, her legs criss-crossing under her.

"Good luck," Daphne said before she too sat.

Natalia blew him a kiss and then joined the other two on the ground.

Harry took a deep breath in. This was it. He rolled his fingers along his holly and phoenix feather wand and mentally prepared himself.

The pain was going to be incredible. He went through many that had been well beyond unpleasant and he hadn't received a single warning. For Salazar to have warned him…

Fuck, this was going to hurt, he just knew it.

He shut his eyes and tried to calm his erratic breathing. Already his body was preparing itself. He could hear his heartbeat, he could smell the closed in stone room. He could feel no magic, aside from his own, the circle preventing any from joining.

One more steadying breath and he'd begin.

Harry exhaled, his body tensed and-

He inhaled, not having started channelling the spell.

His mouth was dry and his stomach was somehow in knots, rock hard, and filled with butterflies!

Okay, three deep breaths and he'd do it.

Un, he breathed in, exhaled out. _He could do this_.

Deux, air rushed into his lungs, he expelled it all out. _He was going to do this_.

Trois, one final inhale, one large exhale. _Time to do it_.

Harry focused on his intent. Protect my loved ones.

He summoned his will. _He could do it for them_.

He thought about the locket and his soul being bound to it. _He'd make it happen_.

Drawing on his magic, he pushed and his magic gave form.

At first though, nothing happened. It was as if there was a second of everything trying to work in cohesion, everything merging all together.

Then it hit.

_Pain_.

It had been like diving into ice-cold water. You dive in and the reaction is so extreme that your body doesn't have a chance to respond. But, the second it did, it was brutal.

His whole body was on fire.

He couldn't think. He couldn't smell. He couldn't…anything.

One second he was in agony and the next he was blinking, his head on a rock-hard surface.

He blinked but couldn't see. Harry shut his eyes and counted un, deux, trois. He opened his eyes to find himself staring at the ceiling, a cacophony of voices.

Harry rolled over and got up onto his hands and knees. Whatever had just happened had felt like a lorry had run him over. He wasn't in pain but he knew his body had just been through a horrid ordeal.

He blinked again. It was almost like each blink was turning back on another system in his body. First he saw, then he heard, and now he could feel the cold stone floor below him.

Shakily, he stood up and looked to the three girls.

"I'm fine," Harry said, waving off their obvious concern. "That was just...yeah." There really weren't words for it.

"You're sure?"

Harry wasn't sure which one of them had said that but it didn't really matter. "Yeah, just wasn't what I was expecting." He tried to make himself sound more confident than he felt. Whatever had just happened had floored him, literally.

"What did it look like?" he asked as he rubbed his eyes. Everything was still coming back into focus for him.

He heard more than one of them say something but by the time he'd gotten his eyes to focus on them, it had been Daphne that had begun to answer.

"It looked as though you were starting to work yourself up to it. Then, when you started, your whole body glowed...magic was rolling off you and…" her eyes unfocused as she stopped mid-sentence.

"_Merde_," Fleur said, shivering as she did so. "It was intoxicating, _enthralling_."

"I've never felt magic like that. It was like it was being ripped out of you and overpowering the room. There was a visible haze in the shape of your body, and you were in so much pain," Natalia said, her words finishing scarcely above a whisper.

Harry just nodded. An outline of him and magical power being ripped away from his body. That made sense. He thought back and tried to see if their words resonated with what he'd felt.

After a moment of trying to think, he realized he hadn't really known what was going on. The spell had just overpowered everything. No sensation had been able to register anything.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew he had to try doing it again.

He moved back into the middle of the circle and shut his eyes. "Okay, I'm going to try again. Maybe I'll last longer this time," he breathed out.

"Be careful, 'arry," Fleur said, concern lacing her voice.

Harry nodded and squeezed his eyelids shut.

Time to steady his breathing again. Un, deux, trois. Each number came with a breath in and out.

He knew what to expect this time and just went for it.

That flash of numbness came and went. The cold pain began to register. Each nerve was being sparked, the start of a great inferno taking root.

Harry braced himself, trying to get a _feel_ for what was happening.

His teeth ground together as he tried to ignore the physical pain.

His mind worked to block out the indescribable agony that he was experiencing.

He reached out with his magic and tried to get a sense, even as he put forth all his effort into increasing the power of the ritual.

As if the earlier spark had caught, his body was on fire. Each nerve served as the kindling to the great fire that had engulfed every inch of his body.

His teeth pressed into each other and he tasted copper in his mouth.

Unbidden, his lips parted and a scream tore out of his throat. The lining of his throat coming out with it, or that was how it felt.

Still, Harry's eyes flashed and he refused to let the pain stop him.

He had to know. He needed to understand what was happening.

He focused on his magic, his desperation reaching an ultimate high.

Second after second, the pain built. It was as if someone had cast a torture curse that amplified with every millisecond it was kept on you.

His earlier senses were gone, he didn't even have any idea if he was yelling. All he could feel was magic.

Intense, all-encompassing magic.

The longer he held it, the worse it got.

Still, he pushed himself, he discarded the pain and tried to keep going.

He'd prove himself _worthy_.

He threw every ounce of his will, ever scrap of his magic and tried to force the ritual to end. With a final roar, he gave _everything_ he had to finish.

His heart beat in his chest. _Thump-thump, thump-thump._

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

What was going on?

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

He was alive.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Was he hearing his heartbeat or was he feeling it?

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Harry tried to move his hand to his chest but he could do little more than attempt to lift it and experience _pain_.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

A groan came from his throat, though something was blocking it.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Was he breathing?

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

His heart beat but did his lungs move?

He tried to open his mouth and breath but all he felt was liquid in his mouth.

Liquid?

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

A cough tore out of him but the fluid fell back toward the back of his throat.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

He felt warmth on the back of his neck.

What was going on?

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

More warmth. His arms, his shoulders, his back.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

He was being rolled over. His body, unresponsive.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Something was pounding on his back. A cough came from him, fluid was expelled out of his mouth.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Another cough and then a gasp of air.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Air in. Air out. Un.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Another series of coughs racked his body. Air was greedily gulped.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

His heart beat. He was alive. His lungs filled with air, deux.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Air in, air out, trois. This was good.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Harry sucked in another deep breath, no fluid going in and out, though the coppery-metallic taste was ever-present.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Blood pounded through his veins. Blood tasted in his mouth.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

What was going on?

He opened his eyes, the light blinding him.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

A ritual. That's what he was doing.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Fuck. Why did he hurt so much?

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Breathing was good. His heartbeat was strong. His eyes opened, but could he see?

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

There was something tickling his face, something light, soft, that was smooth, soft and all over him.

His hands came behind him, and he struggled to sit up. Warmth came to his back, his shoulders, his arms. He felt himself being tugged up.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

His heartbeat was so loud. The pounding of drums in his ears as they rung and rung and rung with noise.

Why were his ears ringing?

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

He brought his fingers to his ears and tried to clean them out, tried to stop the ringing.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

There was more noise now and he could tell his hearing was normalizing, returning to him.

Another _thump-thump, thump-thump _but far quieter this time.

He opened his eyes again, the tickling, silky hair gone. It had taken him a moment to recognize the sensation but it was clear to him now. Someone had let their hair drape all over his face. He blinked rapidly and tried to get his eyes working.

Colour came back. Shapes could be made out and he saw where he was.

A stone room, cold, dark, and bare.

He swivelled his head, first to the left and then to the right. Silvery-blonde hair, a gorgeous face with a massive frown. Brown hair, thinned lips and pinched corners of her eyes.

"Fleur, Natalia," he said, his voice hoarse and foreign-sounding to his ears.

He heard his name, though anything else just blended together into unintelligible noise he couldn't' decipher.

_Fuck_.

The ritual. He'd blacked out again.

Harry's fingers came up to the top of his head, his face tucked into his knees. His fingers grabbed some of his messy hair and pulled.

The sensation brought focus. It wasn't pain that he felt, but the lack of it. It was as if his pain receptors noted that _something_ was happening but they, too, weren't recovered enough to make heads or tails of anything beyond that.

Like the first time but worse.

Harry sat there and ignored the noises around him.

His body was functioning but it was like a shroud had descended upon him.

He could see but not decipher what was going on around him. He could hear noises but not understand them. His whole body was numb and slowly things were normalizing.

Harry's brain tried to come up with an adequate feeling for what he was experiencing. It was like his body was disjointed. Things were working on an individual level but nothing was being put together. Almost like he was a train set that had been carefully laid out but had never been connected. Every time Harry tried to do anything it was like he was the train on unconnected tracks. He'd move forward and be halted. What should have come so easily wasn't possible.

He was disconnected, disjointed, and in the process of being put together.

But slowly, he could feel himself righting. His magic returned to him, fixing him. His senses were gaining in cohesion. Though the process felt slow, the reality of how long it took remained indeterminate.

Only after he began to feel like himself did he respond to exterior stimuli.

"Are you 'earing us?" A voice came from his right. Fleur, his silver-blonde fiance.

Harry reached forward and, with seeing eyes to direct his movement, he caressed her cheek. "I am now," he responded.

"Are you okay?" He heard the words rapidly blurt out of her mouth and he smiled at her.

"Yeah, though it took me a minute to feel myself."

Harry felt a touch on his shoulders. He turned his head around and saw Daphne, positioned behind him and looking him over.

"You're sure?" she asked, frowning.

"I think so...?" Harry began to pat himself. His body felt as though it was all there, though he knew he must've bitten his tongue hard enough to draw blood.

Harry shut his eyes and concentrated, stretching out his magical senses. He felt what he was looking for and called his wand back, summoning it to his hand. And with a quick silent spell, his mouth was clear. Another flick and his tongue was back to normal.

"You were passed out for a good minute or two," Natalia said, her hands grabbing onto him as she hugged herself to his arm and knee.

"Sounds about right. I tried to give it my all but...I guess I passed out, again." Harry stated the obvious conclusion. "What did it look like this time?"

"Who cares what it looked like!" Fleur exclaimed. "You passed out, again! You screamed and screamed and screamed some more!" Her voice was almost hysterical and her hands were trying to crush his arm as she spoke.

"It was horrible," Natalia whispered, her head and shoulder resting on his arm as she stared at him, worry and concern filling her gaze.

"It looked like you were under the cruciatus, but longer and worse," Daphne said, chiming in from behind, her hands still on the top of his shoulders.

"Salazar said it'd be incredibly painful," he said, snorting and shaking his head that he hadn't really considered how bad it could be. He'd passed out twice now. It wasn't just gritting through the pain, it was staying conscious that was the trouble.

"It was just like the last time, Harry. Your body started to glow with a white outline. As you kept up the spell though…" Natalia trailed off, sniffling, and Harry could see tears running down her face, dropping onto the floor.

"The further it got from your body, the more pain you seemed to be in," Daphne said, commenting from behind him, her voice soft though no less worried than the others.

Harry shook his head as he tried to concentrate on what he had felt, magically.

He'd tried, he'd worked to just focus on it but as the ritual moved on he felt less and less.

The first time it was definitely the pain but the second time…it wasn't pain that dulled him... And, that didn't sit right with him.

His senses were muted. He couldn't get a sense of rightness or wrongness from the magic. It just was. The longer he'd channelled, the less he'd felt.

How did that make any sense?

Flitwick had talked to him about power. He'd talked about being able to sense whether this was _wrong_ or not. But, after two attempts, he felt _nothing_ about it.

It was neither right nor wrong. It just _was_.

Harry sat there, thinking, his mind plagued with a mystery he wasn't coming up with ideas on how to begin to figure it out, let alone resolve it.

All three girls were touching him. Daphne was rubbing his shoulders and was pressed up against his back. Fleur was running her hands up and down him and Natalia was hugged onto them. He could feel their magic, so it wasn't that his ability to feel magic was damaged.

"I'm going to try it one more time. Watch me carefully, I need to know _everything_. Daphne, you watch my back, Natalia, you watch my front and Fleur, use whatever you can to see if you can feel anything magically."

Harry stood and was glad to note that his body still felt strong and capable. As he flexed his magic he could tell that whatever this ritual was doing it wasn't expanding it. He didn't feel like he'd just spent an hour casting heavy magic.

Harry turned around and gave Daphne a hug. After hugging her he repeated it with Fleur and Natalia. He wasn't sure if he needed to just feel them against him, to remind himself what he was doing this for; or, whether he needed to reassure them that he was okay.

After a few moments, the girls were in position and Harry was in the middle, ready to start again.

He counted in his mind, un, deux, trois, and started again.

The first plunge, his body numbed and then began to feel the pain begin. Each second it crept ever upward.

Harry grit his teeth and tried to focus on his magical senses.

This time, he'd kept his eyes open and he looked forward.

Magic, his magic, was all around him. It was so thick and heavy that he could see it. A haze, white and pure, surrounding his body. Each second he channelled it, it ever so slowly moved toward the locket.

Though he could tell just how much magic was in the air, he had no sense of right or wrong at all. As he tried to feel around, he got the sense that there was a total disconnect here.

If he hadn't experienced this twice already, Harry knew his thoughts would be a lot less lucid. Though his jaw was clenched, and his body was enduring absolute agony, he was far better at compartmentalizing it.

But, still, there was nothing. It was almost as if he was spinning the helm of a ship left and right but there wasn't a rudder to turn. No matter how much he tried to go, or do anything, really, there was no corresponding action.

He tried to feel for wrongness. But, he felt _nothing_.

He tried to feel for rightness. But, he felt _nothing_.

As the magical outline of his body got further and further, he felt less and less.

Even though pain was wreaking havoc on his body, his mind, his magic, his very soul, Harry knew something was wrong.

Harry cut it off, he stopped channelling the spell, calling his magic back to his body. This time, without having passed out, he saw the white outline rush back into him. He felt his magic come alive, his senses return.

He listened to the _thump-thump, thump-thump_ of his heart.

He breathed in; he breathed out.

He saw, he heard, he tasted, he felt.

His senses returned to him and he sat down.

This wasn't right.

He waited until he felt himself again and then he told them.

"This was wrong. I should feel horrible, abominable," Harry said, not bothering to look around at the other occupants in the room as he stared at the wall. "I felt _nothing_. There was no wrongness, there was no rightness. The further the outline got, the less I felt, sensed, knew."

Harry frowned and rubbed his forehead. "I don't know what's going on but this isn't _wrong_. It should feel gross, icky and be blatantly _wrong_. But this...this, I just can't do this."

The realization dropped on him, like a bag of bricks had just smashed into his stomach. He felt sick, there was something entirely off about this. Not doing the ritual hadn't ever been an option. But if his choices were to have unbalanced magic and die or to feel _nothing_, he'd not go through with it.

"You're not going to do it?" Daphne asked, her voice coming from behind him. "I didn't see anything, just your outline moving towards the locket."

Harry turned to her and gave her another hug, pecking her on the lips as he broke apart.

That felt good, it felt good to _feel_. The warmth of her body, the softness of her lips.

Harry moved toward Fleur and she held her arms out to embrace him. She was warm, like Daphne, and she smelled great, intoxicating. When he broke apart, she pressed her lips into his and pushed her tongue into his mouth.

Harry broke apart from her, a silly grin on his face. "What did you sense?" he asked, not letting their physical relationship distract him from what was going on.

"Magic, power, overwhelming amounts," Fleur said, her hand coming to rest just in front of her lips. "But nothing else. Just magic, as you said."

Harry shut his eyes and let out a sigh. He was worried that she wouldn't notice anything either. Troubling, puzzling and worrying. But, it confirmed what he'd felt, well, hadn't felt. Harry gave her a nod as he said thanks.

He moved toward Natalia and wrapped her up in a hug. She pressed her head into his neck and refused to let go when Harry tried to break the hug.

"I saw what Daphne did," she said, still holding onto Harry. "But, I also saw something I hadn't seen before."

The words startled Harry. He broke their hug and but kept a hold of her shoulders, his eyes stared into hers intently. "Wh-what else did you see?"

Natalia reached up, her fingers in a fist except for her forefinger. She pushed it forward and poked Harry in the forehead, drawing a small circle around his scar. "Right there, that's where I saw it. A black circle, attached to your white outline." She shuddered and shut her eyes tight. "It looks horrible, ugly, black and oily. I didn't even like to look at it, a blight on your outline."

Harry saw no lie in her eyes, just sincerity and something that had startled her. Harry pulled her into him and hugged her again. "It's okay, it'll be okay," he said, trying to comfort her, possibly even trying to convince himself it would be.

Harry broke his hug and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Turning her so that they were shoulder to shoulder, with Harry's arm around her, he faced the other two.

"I'm not sure what this ritual was supposed to do but it's not right. I'd bind my soul to protect you all but that's not what this is. This is muting me, disconnecting my senses, and dampening my magic."

Daphne, who now had her arms crossed, spoke up. "You sure, Harry? If you turn this down…"

Harry nodded his head, vigorously. "I could bear the pain, I could pay a terrible cost to protect you all, but this…this, this isn't it." Harry had no idea _how_ he'd come to that but it was something he just _knew_. Whatever this ritual was supposed to do, it wasn't what he was being told.

A horcrux was _wrong_. An improved horcrux might be less _wrong_ but it should still be _wrong_.

"I can't do it, won't do it," Harry said. He knew this was the correct decision. He was adamant about it and nothing was going to make him do that. Not now. Not after experiencing it.

There was something _off_ about this ritual and he'd figure out what it was. Even if it damned him to have unbalanced magic and a short lifespan.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The four of them were all in Harry's bed. All of them still clothed. Harry had tried to make his way back to the study but the ritual had really taken it out of him. He'd needed to rest and had gone right to the bedroom, leaning on Natalia and Fleur while Daphne had gotten things set up.

He'd laid out on bed and hadn't moved, other than to shuffle over to make room for the girls.

There hadn't been much talking. He'd explained his reasoning again. Then, they'd just been together.

"We'll figure this out, 'arry," Fleur said from beside him. "_All _of us will work together. We won't lose you."

Harry's eyes were shut and so, he just rubbed her leg affectionately.

"You'll make it through this, I know you will," Natalia added.

Harry appreciated her words too and repeated his previous gesture on her.

Harry assumed Daphne was about to say something but he _felt_ something. Something that wasn't from him. Something..._exciting_.

Harry pushed himself up and opened his eyes. His head turned to the door and he wandlessly opened it.

A shriek came through the door, followed by the appearance of his little familiar.

Had she been hunting? She'd been with them before the ritual room but hadn't come in with them and she had something in her talons...a rat?

No, Cuddles knew better than to bring a dead rat into the bedroom.

It was a book, Harry could see. A _glowing _book.

She shrieked again and Harry felt as his anticipation mixed with Cuddles' excitement.

As the book dropped into his hands, he looked at it. This wasn't just any glowing book. This was Salazar Slytherin's Memoir.

And it was _glowing._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been waiting a while to write some of these scenes. Feels good to finally be here. Next chapter should be fun too :D
> 
> Taliesin19 & I took part in the Flowerpot (Harry x Fleur) Discord Server's Flowerpot Garden Event, which was for getting Harry x Fleur one-shots written by authors on the server.  
Mine & Tal's is called Edelweiss, its 18k words and it's on the SalTal Studios account. The story is in my fav's if that is easier and the FFN community is also fav'd too.
> 
> discord dot gg slash KCkSTUn - this is the ITT & SalTal discord server  
discord dot gg slash q63UUxD - this for is for Harry/Fleur discord server.  
Replace dots with a period and slash with the forward slash.
> 
> Thanks to Nauze & Triage for their hard work doing beta!


	49. D-Day

Holly and phoenix feather wand twirled between his fingers. The smell of the ocean air stung in his nostrils. He could taste the sea salt as they made their way through the cloudy night sky. Though it was cold, the heat emanating from the scales kept him warm.

Flap after flap of wings kept them afloat in the air. Powerful wings that brought them higher and then lower, motion after motion.

This was it. Harry gripped Fleur, she was already snug against him but he wanted to pull her tighter to him. The warmth of her body, the feel of her magic, he wanted more of it. He was confident but her presence was a comfort. The last time he'd gone on a mission, he'd been alone. This time, he wouldn't be.

Just as she had been in the forest, Fleur was with him, watching his back. And like then too, Viktor had come and he'd work together with them. And, of course, Cuddles was here, in her enlarged form, flying them to their destination through the sopped night sky.

This was what he'd been planning for sometime, this was what he knew he had to do.

And the timing couldn't have been more perfect.

49 rituals complete, Salazar's test passed, and the exact crew of aurors on shift that he couldn't have handpicked any better. If they hadn't been card-carrying minions of Riddle, then they had been silent supporters and bigoted scum that the wizarding world would be better off without. He'd talked with Cyrus, he'd worked with Patrice and he had all the dirty tidbits from Horace.

"You ready for this?" he asked after moving his mouth close to Fleur's ear.

The air whipped around them, making it hard to hear. Fleur turned her head and nodded as she squeezed his arm.

Harry pulled his arms tight around her and began to mentally prepare himself for this.

This wasn't a sure-fire plan that he'd put together. There were some parts he'd had to rely on others for and a key assumption that would either make or break this whole operation.

It all started with Viktor. His part was small but vital and wholly necessary. His presence also repaid any debt he had owed Harry from the Second Task.

Brothers in Arms, indeed.

The young Bulgarian superstar seeker looked like carved stone made flesh.

It wouldn't be long now, he could already see the island ahead of them. A cloudless sky and on the horizon a fortress of stone; a fortress once made to repel invaders and now used to house the vilest and most despicable of wizards and witches.

Azkaban loomed ahead and Harry's anticipation built. But this wasn't like when he went to kill Lucius. This wasn't like the 49th ritual, the Second Task, or anything like his previous _adventures_.

This was of his choosing. This was a preemptive strike that would rock the wizarding world.

As if reading Harry's thoughts, Cuddles began to descend, aiming for the shoreline of the island. Already, even hundreds of feet away, he could feel lingering of the oppressive magic of the dementors.

The spot they were aiming for was the key to this undertaking. The island's protective wards did not extend into the water. There was a beachhead for them to get set up on. One that is used to transport people to and from the island. A place for guests and new prisoners to be brought in without being subjected to dementors.

As Cuddles began circling over the landing spot, Harry's magical senses swept out and he knew the information his advisors had come up with was correct. This first part was on him, after Viktor gave him the go-ahead.

As his feet made purchase with the ground, rocks being pressed down under his weight, Harry looked about. No boats had been scheduled today and nobody should be around to observe their arrival. Azkaban guard duty revolved around feeding inmates, checking in on them periodically and mostly hiding out in the guard room, to stay away from the dementors.

Harry's mind was focused, he knew the plan inside out and he began working through his checklist. First, he'd shrink down Cuddles. Where he was about to be going, the dragon couldn't come. He'd be going in solo and would have to use the emergency portkey to get out. Fleur would take her away if things went south.

Fleur had already disillusioned herself and Harry quickly cast it on Viktor. The young man was on his knees and preparing the specialized and illicit material they'd brought along.

"It works," he said, turning to look at Harry.

"Okay then, wish me luck," Harry said before turning his eyes up to the foreboding fortress in front of him.

The disillusioned Fleur stood in front of him and grabbed his face with both hands. She pulled him into a searing kiss. "Come back to me," she said, caressing his cheek with her thumb.

Harry nodded and slipped on his cloak. He had no idea if his ancestors had truly understood the capability of this cloak. Walking through wards and being undetected was a priceless ability. If it hadn't been for Krum's Unbreakable Vow to not speak on any aspect of this operation, he'd never have risked letting him know.

Whether the Bulgarian knew it was Harry's cloak or whether he thought it might have been something else, Harry didn't inquire and Krum wasn't forthcoming.

But Harry put all that out of his mind. He'd set this all up well and needed to concentrate on the task at hand.

He looked over to where he had to go. A set of stairs, cut right into the daunting rockface Azkaban was built on. They were more than likely wet, soaked from the ocean spray and as he trudged his way toward them, he felt an unnatural coolness build with every step.

Though the pathway he was taking was unguarded by the dementors, their disgusting magic was prevalent. But ever since he'd completed the ritual set and balanced his magic, he'd been marvelling at his magical control, even his mental control. Everything about him just felt whole, _balanced_.

Where any sort of proximity to the dark creatures would have been debilitating before, now his mental fortitude and magical awareness were enough to fend off their effects. He could feel their magic try and penetrate his, to infect it and let its insidiousness affect him.

He hadn't known what he'd been doing but as the effects grew, as he'd gone deeper into the island, he'd kept a thin magical presence around himself. A barrier where he let none but his own magic touch him. It wasn't a concept he'd heard of, or anything postulated in something he'd read. This was just a natural reaction to feeling how disturbingly vile the dementor's magic is.

As Harry reached the top of the staircase, he noticed that the entry into the fortress lacked a door. He shook his head. It was almost comical how little effort there was in keeping people out of this forsaken place.

Then again, who in their right mind would be coming to an island teeming with creatures that wouldn't hesitate to devour your soul?

Harry suppressed a chuckle, he had to be silent and keep his presence unknown. The plan couldn't work if he was discovered. The first potential derailment had been passed already. Viktor could bring down the wards. Now the second one stumbling block was for Harry to bypass.

After his harrowing experience in Malfoy Manor, this was less anguishing. He already knew his cloak would keep him from being sensed and he was capable of sneaking up on them, especially without the possibility of a house elf popping in randomly.

As he made his way down to the end of the halfway, he turned left, knowing exactly where to go, having memorized the route. He just had to go down to the end of this one and the room he was heading towards would be there.

His breathing started to pick up. He'd mentally committed to doing this but preparing himself to end the lives of three men and actually doing it were entirely different things. Plus, this wasn't just a single man who wasn't even holding his wand. These were three, armed, Aurors.

His holly and phoenix feather wand twirled in his fingers and his pace slowed to a crawl. While they shouldn't be on alert, any mistake now could be deadly. Nobody could know they were here today.

Ten feet out from the door, he heard the first signs of life within the fortress. While he couldn't make out what they were saying, he could now hear male voices talking. He could feel the beginnings of the effects of a Patronus. The dementors' cold and foreboding presence wasn't as severe as he got closer to the open door.

"Did you sign yet?" Harry heard a voice echo out of the room as he was within two feet of the door now and he could hear the conversation.

Harry crept closer, his back almost scraping the wall. It would be, if Harry hadn't been concerned that it might dislodge the cloak.

"Not signing tha'," a second voice came from the opposite side of the room.

Harry was no more than a foot outside the door and he could see the man who had just spoken. He'd never met the three aurors who were supposed to be here and so he did not recognize him.

Holding his breath, he peered in through the door and quickly scanned, from left to right.

It was a spartan room containing a beat-up old table, mismatched chairs, and barred windows that hadn't been cleaned in at least a century. One of the men was doing something near the far wall and another sitting down, with his eyes closed and feet up on the table.

Harry withdrew from the room. One hand went to cover his mouth as he tried to control his breathing and the other went to his heart, his heart that was trying to beat out of his chest. If any of the men had been outside the room, Harry would have been in for a hell of a fight. He'd just noticed that one of the men's breath was visible every time he exhaled.

This wasn't good. He couldn't creep into the room. Cloak or no cloak, the second they looked towards his direction, he would be discovered.

Harry quickly crept back. He had to rethink his plan. He thought he could sneak up on them, set up a transfiguration, stun one and take the least prepared one by surprise. But this…this could be a problem.

"Scrimgeour won' take me off Azkaban duty til I do," one of the men groused.

"Why do you think I'm stuck here? I'm not signing a magical contract that forces me to be loyal to them first," a slick oily voice said.

_That_ was interesting to hear. Horace had told him that Bones was trying to clean up the place and ensure Ministry employees couldn't work for Voldemort. Aurors being forced to sign magically binding contracts sure was _something_.

Harry took a deep breath. He was going to have to go in and take out two right away.

Wait...where was the Patronus?

He had _felt_ a Patronus but he hadn't _seen_ one.

Where was it?

Harry sucked in his breath, he couldn't breathe when he poked his head in the door. There were more words being said but all he could hear was the pounding of his heartbeat. Now that he was thinking about it, he'd only seen _two_ aurors and there should be _three_.

From right to left this time, one auror with his feet up, another with a sandwich in hand, walking back to the table, and no sign of the third one.

Harry crept backwards, still doing his best to hold his breath. One foot moved behind him, the other repeated the motion. Harry shut his eyes and released a breath, the warm air feeling good on his face as it rebounded off his hand.

This wasn't good. He had to find the third person. He either had to deal with all three or get out of here and attempt this another time. It had been hell to convince Patrice, Horace, and Cyrus of the necessity of this. They all understood the payoff but the risks were just as high.

Harry let his head rest against the cold stone wall for a moment. Perhaps it would be best to ambush the two and wait for the third guy to come back?

That could work. It was probably his best bet. Stun the two, so if he messed up with the third one, they wouldn't have any bodies haunting him, leading to investigations.

Harry crouched forward and moved to put his face back in the door. It'd be best to see where they were and then see how it would be best to take them both down. Both were at the table. One had his hands together, holding a few cards. The other had a couple of cards in one hand and his sandwich in the other. Both of them were focused on their game, making it an ideal time to strike.

With his wand already in hand, Harry brought it up in front of him, aiming towards the man that had the better view of the door as he prepared to move.

His wand was shaking, two or three inches with each jittery movement, as Harry struggled to keep his hand steady. This wasn't something he _wanted_ to do, this was something he _had_ to do.

The plan would never work if he left anyone alive. Especially not these three. He had to kill them and that was all there was to it.

He took a deep breath in, carefully, trying to keep from making any sort of noise and snuck in. Harry closed to within six feet as he held his breath; at point-blank range, he couldn't miss. Neither man had a wand in hand and wouldn't be able to shield against a stunner.

Harry pointed his wand at the man on the far side, ignoring the words coming out of his mouth. As much as he might've liked to have heard more of the conversation, he couldn't be distracted. With practised ease, he silently and without even a flick, stunned the first one.

The second man kicked away from the table, falling backwards over his chair, his surprise evident on his face. His mouth opened to yell, or say something, but Harry didn't give him a chance to do so. A stunner leapt from his wand and smashed into the man's chest.

Two spells, two down, a good start.

His fingers ran to the end of the cloak and he was just about to remove it when he realized he still had the third man to find.

Fuck. A sudden thought came to his mind. He couldn't just leave them sprawled out all over the floor, the sandwich broken apart, strewn across the ground. The first man had collapsed over the chair and the second had been thrown back across the room.

Harry knew he had to get this cleaned up right away. He levitated the further man away, off to the corner of the room, so the last auror would have to come in the room to see him. He strode over to the chair and quickly righted it. A single wave of his wand and the mess the sandwich had made was gone.

Another flick of Harry's wand and the second man was pushed off into the corner. Harry bound them with ropes and then looked over the room again, just the one overturned chair looked out of place. Another deft movement of his wand and it was back in place. Though, now that the chairs were in place, Harry realized the cards were still a mess.

One more charm and he just needed to get himself ready to ambush the third auror. He began summoning the cards to him while wondering if he should do it in the hallway or wait until the guy came into the room.

The hallway would have less room to manoeuvre and, as long as he got the drop on him, it should work out. However, if the man was spooked or on his guard, the hallway would be brutal for manoeuvrability. The man might defend, make it around the corner, and then raise the alarm.

Harry finished summoning the cards and floated the deck off to the side of the room and he headed towards the exit. Just as he was turning to look out the door, he heard a voice.

"Yaxley, you fookin' lazy lout. Get your arse out 'ere, you were supposed to have done so!"

Harry froze, that voice wasn't far and their normal schedule was off. He finished making his way to the door and saw the man was only a half dozen feet outside the door. He held his breath and quickly considered whether it was better to try and take him down now, before he noticed things were wrong, or not.

Harry had never duelled an auror and he had precious little experience at all. He could only rely on Salazar's and Fliwick's training.

"Yax?" The man asked as he slowed his approach, his hand reaching into his cloak.

Harry knew he couldn't hesitate now, or he'd lose any surprise that remained. Plus, Flitwick had harped on and on about _never_ letting your opponent gain the initiative.

His wand arm flew forward, almost of its own volition, and he sent forth a piercing hex. Then another, and then a third one, as fast as he could.

It was just like his target practice, sending one spell cascading after the other, trying to hit multiple moving points in rapid succession.

A look of surprise came over the aurors face as his hand was still fumbling around, trying to grab at something in his pocket and working to withdraw it at the same time. The man's eyes widened as he must have come to the same conclusion that Harry had.

The man wouldn't have had a chance to shield himself in time.

He tried to dodge, the first spell was coming right for the middle of his torso and that wouldn't be easy to avoid in a tight hallway. The three spells were closing fast, the hall wasn't wide enough to dive out of the way of all of them, and they were spaced as such that there was no way he could dodge right or left and not get hit by one of them.

Harry stood there, numb, his mind was comprehending what was about to happen, his stomach clenched in anticipation of what was about to occur.

The man went to his left, trying to evade the first one coming for his chest and then, somehow avoid the third one that was around his hip-height.

It was as if time slowed down and each second became ten. Harry saw the man abandon trying to get his wand out as his eyes squinted with concentration, his knees bent in anticipation as he lowered his centre of gravity.

Then, as if he was releasing a loaded spring, he sprang up and to his left. He rotated in the air and tried to prepare himself to hurdle over the final incoming spell just as the first one reached him and clipped his shoulder.

One moment his arm was helping to provide momentum for his jump and the next, the spell took it right off, obliterating his shoulder, detaching his arm from his body.

The arm changed direction and flew down the hall, with the bloody pulp that used to make up his shoulder, spraying out behind him. The man's mouth formed into an 'o' as a scream of pure agony rocked him. Just as Harry was about to feel sorry for him, he realized the second spell was heading into his crumpling form.

Whatever upward momentum he'd created had been curtailed by failing to dodge the first one. The formerly hip-height spell connected, right with the middle of the man's torso.

Harry had long known what a piercing hex could do. He'd seen it smash explosive holes through the middle of targets after targets, hour after hour, day after day, week after week. Yet, seeing it go through a man's ribs and organs wasn't something he was prepared for.

The vomit left his mouth before he even realized he was about to expel the contents of his stomach. The stench mixing with the rusted iron smell that had permeated the darky musty stone fortress hallway.

Harry's haunted eyes stared forward, switching between the detached arm, from hand to a few inches above the elbow, and the bloody red mess that was closer to him. Having decided that he'd smelt the stench enough, he cast a bubble-head charm and then removed his invisibility cloak. He no longer had a need to wear it.

With a wave of his hand, the puke was cleaned from the floor, a flick of his finger took care of the vomit that had dribbled down out of his mouth.

His body was still shaking, his legs wonky underneath him, but he had to soldier on. His actions could swing the war and there was no turning back now.

Harry steeled himself and conjured a torrent of flames, sending them, expanding them, and making them as hot and corrosive as he could. The plan was to burn the evidence away and vanish the ashes.

There could be no evidence left.

Using a tendril of his magic to keep the flames contained and burning under his control, he made his way back in the room. He had two more two wizards to dispose of.

Harry looked at the two stunned men, lying side by side.

He swallowed hard, noting the lack of saliva as his mouth was dry from breathing so heavily. He shut his eyes for a second and then hit them both with a cutting curse to their necks. Best to make it quick and easy. He was about to torch their bodies when he remembered what Ivan had told him.

The items that each person had on them, including their wand, if it had been recovered, were kept in this room. Unless his intel was wrong, finding the cache was a valuable side-objective to achieve.

The obvious place to start looking was the old battered and rusting filing cabinet. Opening the first drawer presented him with an endless set of paper files. Oddly, they were not secured at all. Harry felt no magic, other than expansion and preservation charms.

Harry closed that drawer and moved to the next one. It was just as Ivan had said, the drawer was full of labelled pouches. Each one had the name of a prisoner and, upon opening the first one, a wand was atop a set of clothes.

He shut that one and opened the final drawer, the bottom one. Inside were more pouches. As quick as he was able to manage, he packed them up and let his fire in the hallway burn out. He approached the place where the auror had died, after completing his prior task, and saw the body had been incinerated. He vanished anything he could, even did his best to take a layer of grime and muck off the rocks.

With that done, he moved back to the room and focused on creating another controlled fire. One that would burn out most of the room, save the area immediately around the doorway, where Harry stood.

Second after second ticked by as sweat collected on his forehead and dripped down his face. Keeping the inferno going and away from himself wasn't difficult in the least but in an enclosed space it was quite hot.

He let the room burn until he was sure everything turned to ashes. After Harry repeated the cleaning and vanishing charms, he was certain this was the cleanest this room had been for decades, the stone almost glistened.

But those thoughts were pushed aside, he had to get moving if he wanted everything done before shift change.

Harry quickly donned his cloak again and followed his earlier path back down to the beach. Not much reason, though, to wear the cloak, as the dementors could not signal an attack to the Ministry of Magic and they were warded from this path. Cyrus had mentioned a guard had lost his soul while on break and so their access to this part of Azkaban had been taken away.

The journey back to Viktor and Fleur was over almost as soon as it began. Harry had been so numb by taking the lives of the three men that he'd just done his best to keep his mind blank and focus on moving forward, one step at a time.

Ten feet out from his fellow champions, he took off the invisibility cloak and sank to his knees.

He'd kept it together but the full force of his actions had hit him. As tears pooled down his face, he dry-heaved, even though the contents of his stomach had already been purged.

He tried to remind himself that he'd just killed one former death eater and two men who had been, at the very least, sympathizers. More than likely though, they had provided tips or had delayed auror actions until Riddle's raids were well underway, their objectives completed.

Still, he saw in his mind, over and over, the gory display of a man's chest cavity being blown clean through, bits of bone, organs, muscle, and blood spraying everywhere.

Bile rose up in his throat again and he tried to swallow it down.

Just as he was successful, a body impacted his, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. It must have been Fleur. He sniffed but couldn't make out her smell. Just generic clean air. He lifted his chin up and saw it was Fleur, her silvery-blonde hair filled his vision.

Words were being spoken in his ears but Harry wasn't listening. He was feeling the warmth of her magic, of her body. She felt so pure, fiery and agitated.

He shook his head as more comforting words filled his ears. What a young woman he'd gotten. One who had trained for hours with him and Flitwick. One who loved him and had _volunteered_ to come to Azkaban with him. Well, not just volunteered, _demanded _and told him she was coming.

Harry ended his bubble-head charm and breathed in her scent, squeezed her back, and brought himself back to a proper state of mind.

This was necessary. This was essential to dismantling the power base Riddle still had.

He breathed out and began to stand, "Thanks, Fleur."

As Harry got back to his feet, he looked into Fleur's worried blue eyes and nodded.

He was okay. He could do this.

He took a step back and looked at Viktor. The stoic young man was standing there, watching, his face unemotive and body rigid.

"It's done then?" Fleur asked, from beside him, her hand taking a hold of his.

"Yeah," Harry responded.

"You're good for this next part?"

Harry nodded with purpose. "Yes," he replied, his voice strong. He knew what she was asking. Because if he wasn't prepared for this next part, there was no point in going further.

"Are we doing this?" Viktor asked, giving them a flat stare, his cloak being blown around by the wind.

"Just give me a second to prepare," Harry said as he called for Cuddles.

The little dragon flew to Harry's open hand and the process began again. Where before she'd needed to be ready to flee, if things hadn't gone well, now Harry needed her ready to fight a horde of dementors.

When Cuddles had reached her full form, Viktor once again asked Harry, "Ready?" seemingly in a hurry to leave this forsaken place.

Harry shook his head and looked to Fleur. "You ready?"

The plan here hinged on something Harry had learned from Sirius' memory. The inmates were protected from dementors going rogue. The bars of each cell were impassable for them and were always secured and locked, unless an auror was there.

When the wards came down, the only souls available were going to be on the beach. Fleur's responsibility was to keep a Patronus up while Harry went on the offence. The second the wards were down, Viktor was gone. He owed a debt but not enough of one to stand on a beach and be swarmed by dementors.

"We're ready," Harry said, walking over to him. He clasped him on the shoulder. "Thanks for this, and good luck."

Krum shook his head. "Keep it. You'll need it," he responded gruffly, turning back to his task.

Harry shot him a strained smile and then prepared for what was to come. He'd faced a huge amount of dementors but that had been a hundred.

Here though. _Here_. This was their home.

_Every_ dementor that the Ministry had under their control was here.

The second the wards came down, they were going to be swarmed.

There was no time turner, there was no Buckbeak.

There was only Fleur, Cuddles and Harry.

This was a gamble but one with a caveat. That, if things weren't going well they could take a portkey and escape.

Harry looked at Fleur as he heard Viktor begin the countdown.

_Un._

The macabre sight of her in the forest came to his mind.

_Deux._

It had been burned into his mind and he'd never forget it how she valiantly stood tall against insurmountable odds.

_Trois._

Harry could feel it. The air filling with magic. Viktor's prepared devices built to take down these wards.

The magic was thick, viscous and Harry shivered as he swore he could reach out and touch it.

Then, when the magic permeating the air all around them reached its zenith, the wards _shattered_. A great crash could be heard, and the presence of magic began to fade.

Harry turned his head and watched as Viktor disappeared from sight, his portkey yanking him to safety.

"_Expecto Patronum,"_ Harry incanted, thinking of the incredible young woman right beside him. The feeling of love was so pervasive, he could have fueled his and hers.

Harry heard Fleur's incantation and looked over to see what form hers took. Right in front of her was a dragon. A dragon that was eerily similar to his familiar.

"Cuddles," Harry whispered, a smile coming to his face unbidden.

Just as he came to that realization Harry looked for Prongs. But...it wasn't there?

Harry narrowed his eyes and looked, but all he saw were _three_ dragons.

"We 'ave the same Patroni," Fleur said, giving him a one-armed hug. "I thought yours was a stag?"

Harry looked into her blue eyes as he answered, "I thought so too."

Now that he had a second to think about it, it certainly made sense. A lot had gone on since he'd last cast this spell. The first time he'd successfully used it, he thought he was his dad. Now...now, things were different.

It had started as a trickle but it was growing steadily worse now. Though they had two strong dragon patroni in front of them massively dampening the effect, the dementors were still coming.

As Harry stared towards the fortress, uncountable black specks were coming towards them. It was like a murder of crows had taken to the sky and was making its way towards them. Except they were silent, ominous crows that were innumerable and had the ability to suck out your soul.

"Mon Dieu," Fleur said, her free hand covering her mouth, muffling her words.

Harry looked to Cuddles and took a deep breath in, trying to steady his wavering nerves.

He gave the mental cue to her.

As his familiar bellowed out a torrent of flames, Harry suffused it with his magic and took control. He focused all of his mental fortitude and clearly had the picture of what he wanted in his head. He forced the magic to bend to his will and put every ounce of power into it that he could, his eyes shutting as he did so.

Harry opened them up and saw what his magic had wrought. Standing tall before them was a gigantic, massive minotaur. It had to be taller than thirty feet, with horns on its head, and an incredible two-handed axe balanced on its shoulder.

Harry sank to his knee. That feat had taken a lot out of him but he couldn't rest, not yet.

He didn't get up, he just gave the next cue to Cuddles and prepared for the next phase of their defence. He shut his eyes again since he always thought it helped him to concentrate and better picture what he was creating.

He felt the heat and the presence of the unnaturally hot and corrosive flames. Like before, he focused and made the flames into what he'd envisioned. This time, a dozen large stags were formed, each made out of white-hot flames, matching the colour of the minotaur.

Harry watched as Fleur took hold of him under his shoulder and pulled him to his feet. "One more, mon coeur."

Once more, he let Cuddles do her work and then he shaped the white-hot fire into the final creation. Miniature dragons. While the Minotaur tanked and destroyed everyone and anything before it, the stags were to be on equal parts offence and defence. Half were going to go and murder as many dementors as possible while the other was instructed to keep a tight ring around them.

The third and final part of Harry's plan were the dragons. They were to keep a net above them and to go on the attack themselves. The plan was for Harry to use his Patronus to herd the dementors into his creations and then let them do their magic. Fleur was in charge of keeping her Patronus near, preventing any dementors from getting through to attack.

She was equally responsible to portkey them to safety if they got overwhelmed. Their lives weren't worth losing.

But this really all came down to one thing. Could his fire creations kill or destroy dementors?

Fire was an effective measure of delaying and combating them. However, it wasn't known to kill.

What Harry was betting on was that _his_ fire, their fire, was _different_.

Cuddles' flames weren't just regular dragon fire. Already, it was more. It could wear down wards that were designed to hold up against dragons.

And it was that clue that led him to this belief. To the understanding that their combined fire was _corrosive_.

The only explanation Harry had been able to come up with was that the basilisk venom and phoenix tears from second year had an effect on him, magically.

It was these properties that led him to believe his fire would _destroy_ a dementor, making this whole operation possible. Basilisk venom _destroys_ things at a magical level that leaves them incapable of being repaired by any known magical or otherwise means. Phoenixes were creatures of light, of fire. There was something _pure_ about them. Having fire imbued with a sliver of their essence _must_ be good then, when fighting demonic soul suckers.

This had to work.

He'd murdered three people, all on the assumption that his hypothesis was correct. And, it wasn't like he could have tested it. The entire operation required absolute secrecy and that they could misdirect the investigations afterwards.

The plan was workable and it all depended on this final assumption.

This _had_ to work.

The tiny specks were getting larger now. Their menacing presence could be seen. The air was dropping in temperature, the spring day was beginning to feel like a crisp autumn day.

Their insidious magic was building in the air and Harry had to redouble his efforts to keep them from affecting him mentally. The last thing he could afford to happen was for him to pass out and see his mother die.

"'Arry," Fleur said, her voice shaken. She looked at him. "There-there are...so, so, so many." Harry could see the horror in her eyes. And yet, there she stood, her Patronus in front of her, and she wasn't fleeing.

"We got this," Harry said, projecting more confidence than he felt. "Keep your dragon close and light up a ring of fire for my stags to patrol."

Giving her a task to accomplish would get her mind off of the overwhelming number of dementors on their way to try and collect their souls.

Harry swallowed hard and then looked to his familiar. She was going to be a heavy hitter for them, again. Flying through the air, crushing those that got close to her and lighting any ablaze that came within her range. Harry released her, allowing her to take flight and breathe wrath and ruin upon those that would dare to try and harm Harry and his mate.

As an uncountable number of dementors descended from Azkaban, their faces hidden and tattered black cloaks whipping in the wind, Harry felt as though the very air around him was freezing.

The plan was for him to send his dragon off but the sheer combined might of their magical presence was overwhelming him; them.

He heard it...again. Someone was screaming, screaming inside his head...a woman…

'_Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!'_

Harry knew that voice, he knew what was happening.

''_Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside, now…'_

No, not _now!_ The dementors were closing, getting close to his minotaur's range, nearing the air defence of Cuddles and his miniature dragons.

'_Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead–'_

"No," he snarled, defiance welling up inside him. He'd worked too hard, he'd trained too hard, he'd sacrificed his goals, his dreams, his moral, his ethics. He'd done _everything _to survive! This couldn't, wouldn't, be the end of him

'_Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy…'_

Mercy? There would be no mercy. There _could _be no mercy. Every single one of these damned demons needed to die.

_A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming…_

"No," he snarled again. He wouldn't succumb to them, no more, and _never_ again.

Harry's eyes shifted from the battle which was about to commence to Fleur. Though he'd been around a hundred dementors before, he knew Fleur had no experience with them.

She was standing there, speaking in rapid french. Her eyes were glassy and she looked like death warmed over. The strong Patronus she had before was faltering, dimming before his eyes and before blinking out of existence.

This is why he'd wanted to do this alone. Facing a horde of dementors wasn't something one could adequately prepare for. But Fleur was adamant. She was strong and fierce. She could do this.

Harry closed the distance between them, "Fleur," he called out. "Fleur!" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

He shook her again and called her name once more. The third time finally had an effect on her. She blinked and her mouth stayed open, her lips no longer moving. "'Arry?"

He didn't know if it was the right thing to do but he had a gut instinct and they were almost out of time. Harry closed the distance between them and kissed her, hard. His lips pressed into hers and his tongue invaded her mouth. He moved his hands up and down her body, one in the front and one on the back. He kept up his assault, warming her with his body, kissing her with a passion that was the antithesis of the creatures bearing down upon them.

Fleur moaned in pleasure as her fear-induced paralysis was broken and Harry knew she'd be okay now.

"We'll finish that later. Get your Patronus up." Harry stepped away from her but didn't take his eyes off of her.

Fleur's eyes were ablaze and he could see her resolve build up. _Nothing_ was going to put her out of action now. "Expecto Patronum," she incanted, a blinding light shot out of her wand and another dragon was protecting them.

Harry turned his attention back to the horde descending towards his battle lines. The contrast between white-hot creatures and the cold black dementors was making him anxious. Having had enough of waiting, Harry sent his enormous minotaur forward.

The two-handed battle axe slipped forward, off the shoulder, settling into the minotaur's hands. The gigantic creature stepped forward while simultaneously drawing the battle-axe backwards. With another step forward, it swung the axe forward, the speed leaving a burning line as the sharp edge tore through the air.

With bated breath, Harry watched as it swung at the closest dementor, the creature had no chance to dodge. Burning death was bearing down on it and there was nothing it could do.

As it was on its path to bisect the creature, Harry couldn't help but worry. Would the axe hold up? Could it cut through the dementor? Could it truly hurt it? Kill it?

The answer came in a millisecond. The staggeringly large axe made contact and a shrill, piercing cry ripped through the air. A black cloak incinerated, burning up in an instant.

The sound of the wailing hurt his ears and yet, at the same time, it filled him with immense joy.

His minotaur _killed_ a dementor.

The unearthly screech that had torn through the air signalled the start. A ferocious battle commenced. Miniature dragons bit, clawed, and flew _into _dementors with a vengeance. Stags lowered their heads and rammed them with the majestic antlers. And the minotaur… That deadly beast wielded its axe with a maliciousness that was bestial in nature.

Unholy screech after unholy screech took to the air.

The entire first wave had been decimated. His creations were destroying dementor after dementor and holding up while doing so.

_This could work_.

The first wave had no more than fifty dementors. As Harry looked around, the sky was littered with them. The ground before them was a sea of faceless black cloaks. As much as the opening salvo had been theirs, it was just that, an opening skirmish.

The oppressive dementor magic continued to hammer at him, them. As he looked to his partner, he could see she was struggling with it, though she continued to maintain a ring of fire around them.

'_Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!'_

Harry looked back at the battle, the massacre. It was just like he'd hoped, just like he'd pictured.

His enormous minotaur was dominating the battle. Standing in the middle, swiping it's large axe back and forth, with nothing being able to withstand its hew. Those that snuck past the axe were met with knees, feet, shins and the occasional swipe of a hand or the pole of the weapon it wielded.

The stags danced around, prancing to and fro, their horns lowered and gouging into the enemy. Meanwhile, the miniature dragons continued to bite, claw, and scrape at anything they could. While they lacked a ranged attack, their agility in the air and effective attacks made up for it.

Yet, with all their success, Harry wasn't sure it would be enough. Over a dozen dementors were coming from his left and there were only two stags out there. The inner circle of stags was still alive but they could get overwhelmed too.

''_Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside, now…'_

The voices were in his head, the cold was biting at him, and his head felt sluggish, off. Dementor after dementor was felled but he was struggling. Struggling to control and direct the small army he'd created.

Still, the abominations of magic were being taken down, one ear-splitting screech at a time.

'_Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead–'_

Harry shut his eyes for a moment and pushed the dementor's magic back, recreating the magical blockade around him. He couldn't let his grip on his creations falter. He swivelled his head and looked all around him. The ground forces were holding up but the air was teeming with them and they were coming from all sorts of directions.

The veritable army of miniature dragons was struggling to stem the tide.

'_Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy…'_

Harry focused on his creations, pushing more magic to them. Reinforcing the minotaur, even as it stepped on one, swatted another with its hand, and arced its axe in a line that bisected three dementors in one swing.

Yet, even still, the dementors were closing in. They were pushing back his creations and Harry already knew he was at the limit of what he could sustain, if not just past it.

"_Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-"_

Harry looked to his left again and the stags were being pushed back. He directed two of his circling six to go assist. That flank couldn't collapse. Dementors were making it past the minotaur, it simply had too many to contend with to get them all.

_A high, cruel cold laugh, 'Avada Kedavra.'_

Harry looked over to Fleur, her wand was whirling, her silvery-blonde hair was reflecting the light from the fires, giving her an angelic glow. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her lips were twisted into a snarl.

_She was so fucking glorious._

Harry shook his head as he turned back to direct his white-hot creatures wrought from magical flames.

_A blinding flash of green light. A burning sensation in his scar_.

White mist was filling his head, the toxicity of the dementor's magic seeping into him, dulling his senses, projecting thoughts and visions right into his head. Harry lifted his head to the heavens and saw his dragons were being overrun. He had to buy them more time.

He focused on his love for the woman beside him, he brought forth his unwavering resolve to protect her, and strengthened his dragon Patronus. He focused on it and directed it above them, forcing the dementors back, giving his dragons a chance to regroup and push them back again.

_A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming…_

Harry looked to the centre, the minotaur was holding firm but there were too many to kill. It was like he was trying to cast a net across the entirety to a river, hoping to catch every fish that was going downstream, but they found ways under it, over it, around it. The net would catch many of them, delay most of them, but it could not stop everything.

'_Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!'_

Harry grit his teeth and re-directed Cuddles from her assault on aerial dementors. He had her fly just behind the minotaur and bathe the rocky beach in flames.

As the flames came out of her mouth, Harry was grabbing ahold of them. Infusing his magic and creating more dragons, more stags and even a few eight-foot minotaurs. The dragons he sent to assist their brethren, the stags he replenished the inner circle, which had been seeing action, and sent the rest to plug the holes the dementors were using to get around the ginormous half-human half-bull.

''_Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside, now…'_

Harry fell to his knees. The strain of creating another wave had pushed him beyond his previous limits. Combined with the mental and magical attacks of the dementors, Harry had been forced down to his knees. Holly and phoenix feather wand gripped in his hand and he could barely see anymore.

He couldn't keep this up. He could already feel he was teetering on the edge of exhaustion. And if he fell, Fleur might not get them out in time.

'_Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead–'_

He could see it now, he could picture his parent's death. The inhuman appearance of the one that used to be Tom Riddle. He could see his mother block his path, shielding her child, begging for its life.

'_Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy…'_

"No!" he snarled once more. He couldn't let them win!

He thought of Fleur, their passion, their lovemaking. He thought of Natalia, her devotion and confidence in him, and he thought of Daphne, the girl who was too afraid to commit because she feared being burned, even though he could tell, she'd fallen for him.

_A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming…_

Harry looked around, Cuddles had dementors crawling on her, clawing at her. Fleur had her Patronus up, shielding their right and driving the dementors to his stags. Ahead of her, she kept lighting dementors on fire, working to keep up a ring that had been all but exhausted.

He looked above them, his dragon was fast and ferocious but there were too many. His Patronus kept the stragglers from getting through to them but there were so many and he was fading, fast.

Ahead of him, the reinforcements he'd sent to the beach were fending them off and destroying them the best. But, Harry could see, the dementors were hovering over the water now, flanking to where his fiery creations would have difficulty putting up a defence.

_A high, cruel cold laugh, 'Avada Kedavra.'_

Harry fell forward, his hands bracing him.

The ocean breeze filled his nostrils, as he sucked in air. His mouth shut as his jaw clenched under the constant strain of keeping his magical creatures alive, defending them.

_A blinding flash of green light. A burning sensation in his scar_.

No, no, this couldn't be the end, Harry thought with desperation.

He could see, the dementors were making their last push. They were trying to swarm them from all angles and overwhelm their defence. Harry could see another two get through and Fleur's wand flashing, spewing fire, trying to keep the soul-sucking demons at bay.

But it wasn't enough. Fleur's fire could only impede them; it couldn't destroy them.

_A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming…_

No! No, no no! Nobody was dying for him. Yet, they were still coming. The dementors were too many, they were all around them. They had to be driven back or a wall of fire had to be put up around them, one that could protect them.

Even on his hands and knees, Harry directed his Patronus back towards them. Fleur's was too far. Its presence was the only thing keeping their right side from being overrun. The stags swept one way while the Patronus pushed back those that tried to go behind them.

His dragon Patronus sat right above him, low enough that Harry could reach up and touch it, if he'd been able to stand and reach up, that was.

Harry called for Fleur, wanting her to stand right underneath it so he could protect them, so he could provide a last bastion as the final wave came at them.

Harry wouldn't give in. His will would not be broken, not by the likes of these.

'_Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!'_

His mother loved him. She gave _everything_ for him.

His Patronus wouldn't fail now. His creatures would not come undone.

"_Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-"_

Harry focused on that. His father had died for him too. His father had loved his wife and son enough to face a Dark Lord.

''_Stand aside, you silly girl…stand aside, now…'_

Love wasn't silly. It was _power_. It was _will_.

'_Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead–'_

Was this all the dementors could throw at him? A moment of his life where he'd lost his parents but had learned how much they loved him? The memory he had where he could actually _hear_ his parent's voices?

'_Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy…'_

"Pathetic," he snarled, spit flying out of his mouth.

He was Harry _fucking _Potter. The heir of Salazar Slytherin and these abominations would _not _have him!

Harry pushed himself back into a kneeling position. Then, slowly, agonizingly, he put one knee up and then forced himself to stand. His eyes blazed with resolve, with power, and he called for Cuddles.

It was time to end this.

As he looked around, he saw his creatures were falling, dying off. His minotaur was still standing strong, felling dementor after dementor but many stags were missing, several of the dragons too. The drain on him had lessened and it allowed him to counter with one final move of his own.

Cuddles was above him now, flying in a high circle, up above the dementors. Harry used their connection to survey the battlefield and saw the dementors truly were closing in. Only the combined strength of their Patroni kept them from being overwhelmed.

Yet, even still they pushed, not fleeing as they had at Hogwarts.

Harry knew what he needed to do but still, he hesitated. He hadn't tried this, though he had done something similar. Either way, he'd made up his mind and he was going to do it.

Hoping he wasn't making a deadly mistake, Harry commanded Cuddles to rain fire down right at him and Fleur.

Harry felt the magic, he could sense the fire and he took hold of it. Suffusing it with his magic, he raised his wand over his head and rotated it, pulling the torrent of fire in a circle, as if he was conducting it to follow the motions of his wand.

Harry shut his eyes and circled, again and again, pushing it, making it corrosive, pure, and as hot as it could be. He whirled it around and around, keeping up a wall as he pushed it ever outward, focusing on the blights of magic he could feel that comprised the dementors magical presence.

One after another they burned before him and he kept it up until he couldn't feel a single one; until their disgusting magic no longer pushed on his senses. Only then did he let the fire burn itself out.

Harry surveyed the scene in front of him. His minotaur was one of only a dozen total creatures left. One minotaur, four stags, and seven dragons were all that remained. With a flick of his wand, all of them ceased to be.

Harry breathed in and saw that there wasn't a single dementor left. Not even any black specks in the sky. As far as his eyes could see, as far as his senses could tell, the only things in their vicinity were Fleur, Cuddles and himself.

Harry felt Fleur sink to her knees beside him, her arms wrapping around him. "I knew you could do it," she said, her lips brushing against his ear as she spoke.

He just breathed in and out, letting his fatigue roll off of him.

He knew he was capable and powerful but that had been _intense_ and entirely too close.

"What now, 'arry?" Fleur asked, breaking apart from him.

It looked as though she was thinking the same thing as him. That they couldn't just sit here and bask in their victory; their extermination of the dementors.

Harry blinked away the tiredness from his eyes and then reached into his pocket and pulled out two pepper-up potions. He handed a vial to Fleur and then downed his own. As he did so, Cuddles landed bedside him. His hand automatically reached forward and rubbed her snout.

This wouldn't have been possible without her and Harry would have to thank her with a rat hunt or something after this.

"Now we take a tour of Azkaban and kidnap all the inmates," Harry said, a grin on his face. This had been a risky endeavor, and though they weren't out of the woods quite yet, it was all downhill from here. "Fancy a tour from yours truly?"

Fleur rolled her eyes at him. "As long as you let me burn the place down with fiendfyre after we're done."

Harry chuckled, "I'll join you but I think I'll let Cuddles go wild first. I've always wanted to see a dragon attack a stone fortress."

Fleur reached toward him and grabbed his hand. "I can live with that, so long as you bring back that minotaur and let it go crazy too."

"Sounds like a plan," Harry said, pulling her in for another hug.

They broke apart, their hands still holding onto each other and Harry checked that he hadn't misplaced anything. After he was sure he had everything, especially his invisibility cloak, he cast a quick tempus as they made their way towards Azkaban's entrance. "We got four hours til shift change. Let's do this."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Nauze & Triage for the beta work!
> 
> I do promise there is some resolution in the next chapter. This was always going to be written this way. Complete 49 and hit Azkaban. I’d thought to add a second scene to this one but the word count kept growing and I don't want to shortchange the next scene. So, onto the next one.
> 
> Thanks for reading, commetnign, kudos and bookmarks! If you’d like to join the discord follow the link in my profile.
> 
> The dementor induced lines are largely from JKR’s books. Most are 100% copied and a couple had very minor tweaks to fix context. Book 3. It’s fanfic, I don’t make any money from this and will never accept any, as the Harry Potter series is owned by JKR.


	50. Troubled Talks & Talking Tactics

Harry's eyes shot open as he heard his alarm going off. He groaned and cast a wandless time charm. The room he woke up in was pitch black, only his charm providing any sort of light. He pushed himself into a sitting position and looked around. The warm body dozing beside him was obviously Fleur. Silvery-blonde hair and he knew she'd been the one that had passed out beside him.

He'd only had a short nap, trying to regain some energy and strength to carry on with his plans. But, this entire day had been planned and timed out. Thankfully, kidnapping the inmates had been rather simple. Stun them through the bars, unlock the door, stun them again for good measure, and then drop a portkey on them.

They had gone cell by cell and cleared out the whole place. Then, after they had finished that task, Harry had created another minotaur and had it join Cuddles in demolishing the fortress. Without wards in place, it was an old stone fortress that was susceptible to physical damage.

And, after that had been done, they'd torched the place with Fiendfyre. This step had always been planned. The Ministry would come to investigate and the residual magic left by the demonic fire would be the only thing detectable. Their investigation on magic use would be over before it began. There'd be no trace leading to who'd pulled this off.

They had to complete just one more step before they'd be able to leave. After they'd arrived back at the staging point, their new base of operation, the place that had formerly been known as Malfoy Manor, they'd showered, gotten cleaned up, and had passed out on the bed shortly thereafter. The only thing Harry had accomplished prior to that had been a quick debriefing with Ivan Pavlov.

Now, it was time to get up, though Fleur would be staying behind. Her part in today's events had been completed.

Harry gently ran his fingers through her hair, mentally thanking whatever deity had seen fit to place her in his life. What other young woman would volunteer to help him exterminate dementors and capture criminals?

Harry shook his head, got up, and dressed in the clothes that had been laid out for him. Though he made sure to put his chest armour back on. Things shouldn't go poorly but if they did, having a dragonhide vest underneath his clothes could be a big help.

He quickly finished dressing and made his way to where he figured he'd find Ivan. It only took a minute to do so as he was in the foyer coordinating everything, a short walk from the bedroom he'd slept in.

"Off to go meet with Horace now,?" Ivan asked as he looked through papers on the desk, noting Harry's arrival.

"Yeah, only an hour until shift change now, I need to get going," Harry replied, rubbing the back of his head. He didn't feel fully alert but another pepper-up would take care of that before the meeting.

"You'll want to take a look at this before you go," Ivan said, offering him the piece of paper he had searched for and then picked up off the desk.

Harry nodded and took hold of the paper. It was a transcript of the interrogation of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Third question is what you'll want to see," his deep voice directed.

Harry's eyes skipped down to the third question. It asked about Horcruxes…the interrogator questioned if they were aware of any…

Harry's eyes looked over the answer and his jaw slowly lowered.

"This is for real?" Harry asked, his eyebrows shooting up, trying to join his hairline.

"Helga Hufflepuff's Cup, at Gringotts," Ivan said, confirming what Harry had read. "We have her vault key, her wand, and she'll sign over her vault. You'll have access to it by the end of the week." The ominous declaration reconfirmed his belief that his association with the family had been necessary.

Harry's lips curved into a large grin. This was _exactly_ why this move had been made. Removing the worst of the worst of Riddle's forces, pumping them for any information they might know, no matter how old or irrelevant it might be, and then disposing of them.

With an assassination and a preemptive strike against an unprepared target, he'd crushed Riddle's ability to pick up right where he'd let off.

"Right, well, I need to get going. I'll be back tonight," Harry said, reaffirming the schedule.

Ivan looked up from his reports, his eyebrows pushed inward slightly. "Wars are won on and _off_ the field of battle," he said, his deep voice rumbling out the words. "You've achieved a victory on the field, but it is just as crucial that you secure another _off_ it."

Harry's eyes beheld the man's gaze as he had spoken. With a slow deliberate motion, he lowered his chin and then brought it up. "I will."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Horace, welcome, welcome," Harry heard Dumbledore's voice as he came through the floo, a few seconds after Slughorn.

As Harry stepped into the Headmaster's Office, he saw Dumbledore's head turn to him. "And Harry as well, welcome, welcome." He looked back at Horace, conjuring a second chair for Harry to sit in. "Please, take a seat. Although I hadn't been told you were coming," he lifted his eyebrow at Horace before turning back to Harry, "it is good to see you, Harry."

Horace sat down in the farthest chair and Harry took the one closer to the floo. "Horace had said this was to discuss some _cooperation_ but I gather there is more to talk about, Harry?"

It didn't surprise him in the least that Albus was able to figure out there was an alternative agenda, nor that he was addressing the one less politically astute. "There is more to it," Harry admitted. "But it'd be best to cover that after."

"Oho, let's get right to it, shall we?" Horace said, rubbing his hands together. "Well, Albus, as I'm sure you're aware, we've been working with the ministry and setting up our own political bloc."

"Yes, protecting confidential information from being discussed," Dumbledore said, nodding his head. "Not demanding loyalty but protecting information. A sensible first step."

Nobody would ever willingly sign a loyalty contract to the Ministry of Magic. They had too strong a history of abuses for it to be feasible. Instead, they'd pushed for the tactic of trying to limit what information could be gotten from those sympathetic to Voldemort, knowingly or unknowingly.

"Yes, well, all of this is for a purpose," Horace said, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. "Riddle is coming back and we're trying to prepare for it."

If Dumbledore was surprised, he didn't show it. His eyes moved over to Harry and then back to Horace. "I suppose Harry filled you in on the events of his Hogwarts years?"

"Tom's still alive, without a body," Horace said in acknowledgement. "A diary of his possessing a student and opening the Chamber of Secrets." The way Horace brought it up made it clear there was more going on than just what his words had said.

Harry had to have been watching Dumbledore closely or he would've missed the minute slumping of his shoulder. "You have me there, old friend," he replied with a sigh. "I suppose you know what it was, before Harry stabbed it with the fang of a basilisk?"

Harry watched as Dumbledore stood up from his chair and made his way over to a plain-looking cabinet. He opened the door and withdrew a blackened, ruined book with a large hole stabbed through it.

Dumbledore moved in front of his chair, straightened his bones, and then sat back down, placing the destroyed diary on the desk between them.

"So you've known what it was, all along?" Harry asked; it was one of the things that had bothered him about the man. He had a wealth of information and seemed to take limited actions.

"No," Dumbledore responded, his voice calm and soothing as his blue eyes focused on Harry. "I knew he'd lived on past your parents' murder but not how, not until you gave your tale and presented me with this," he said, gesturing at the book between them all.

"But then you've known for just shy of two years, Albus," Horace pointed out, shifting forward in his seat, eyeing the book carefully.

"And how long have you known Tom was aware of Horcruxes, old friend?" Dumbledore said, riposting the previous comment.

Slughorn tore his attention away from the book and brought his chin up. "I ran from my guilt long enough," Horace said, his lips tight even as they moved. "And since meeting young Harry here, I have done what I can to make sure we never lose someone like LIly to that monster ever again."

Harry brought his hand up to rub his jaw. If Dumbledore had been hoping to play on Horace's guilt or drive a wedge between them, the gambit was doomed from the start. And the comment suggested that the Headmaster was less than omnipotent when it came to Horcruxes.

"Horace has my complete faith," Harry said, interjecting into the conversation. "And you've known for close to two years now. What progress have you made on his Horcruxes?" Harry didn't mind slipping in that they knew there was more than one, it was the obvious conclusion.

The man withdrew his wand from within his robes and cast some non-verbal spells. Harry could feel the protectiveness and quietness of the magic.

"Little and less," he said after a moment's hesitation. "Though, I did begin to piece together facts and a timeline that may lead to a great deal."

Harry frowned, it was uncanny how the man could speak a couple of sentences and not say anything of substance.

"There is one piece of information that I sought and had made no headway on," Dumbledore said, turning to focus on Harry, his eyes twinkling. "It is quite fortuitous that young Harry here will be able to tell us how many rituals he would have done. I have suspected three over seven but that was mere guesswork on my part."

Harry opened his mouth to answer but Horace answered first. "Seven," he said, horror lacing his voice. "He aimed for seven."

Dumbledore bowed his head. "It is as I feared then," he said, his tone grave, as he furrowed his eyebrows and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Do you have a lead on any others?" Harry asked, after giving Dumbledore a chance to take in the news.

"Perhaps, but I'd like to hear more about your rituals first," his blue eyes piercing, seeing more than just what was physically in front of him. "Your magic is...balanced."

Harry nodded; what a relief completing the final ritual had been. "Seven sets of seven."

"Impressive," Dumbledore said, his words carrying a weight of authority. "I had thought you lost and had tried to keep you from the same follies Voldemort fell into. Forgive me, my boy, for my harsh words. I let the mistakes of my past affect how I saw you."

When he'd started talking, Harry had done his best to remain impassive. Whether the words were genuine or not, he could not tell. Either way, the path to them working closely was tentative, at best. "While I didn't appreciate the threat, I certainly understood it."

Harry sighed and looked to Horace. He knew the man would want him to reconcile, but a dominant part of Harry wanted him to sweat it out a little. To delay long enough to impart some of the discomfort he'd felt having being threatened.

"I can understand your concerns,'' Harry said, not voicing that he had the same ones. "But you wouldn't have ever had to worry about that."

Dumbledore's eyes widened but he schooled his features and remained quiet.

Harry dug into his pocket and withdrew the parchment he'd written earlier. He reached forward and passed it to Dumbledore, "Recognize that?"

He took the documents and his eyes roved over their contents, squinting as they did so. The longer he took the deeper his frown became. "No, I don't believe I do," he said, after a time.

Harry nodded. "It's safe to try, but just for a short period of time."

Dumbledore looked down at the parchment again and then back up at Harry. "I'm not inclined to try unknown spells."

"It was said to be the final ritual, the final test, the test Tom Riddle failed," Harry said, knowing full well he'd have the Headmaster's full interest. "What was it the Sorting Hat said? Don't forget my decision to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. Don't lose myself. That it might be the heart of a Gryffindor that finally does it…"

The Headmaster leaned forward now, his eyes looking over his spectacles. "There was a curious change this week. A release of magic occurred, within Hogwarts. A portion of the castle became available to me, no longer hidden."

Harry felt a smile creep onto his face. "The Chamber of Secrets is no more," he said, leaning back in his chair. "It fulfilled its purpose and is no more."

Dumbledore sat back, his hand coming to stroke his beard near his chin. "The Headmasters have long known the Chamber exits but there was some sort of magic protecting it. A Fiedlius Charm was suspected."

Harry shook his head, "No. In truth, I don't know what it was. Just that Salazar Slytherin left a part of himself behind until a _worthy_ heir was found."

"You?"

"Me," Harry confirmed with pride.

"You passed where Tom failed?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Failed and was lucky to survive," Harry said, scowling. "It was pure luck that he did, damning himself in the process." Harry shook his head as he looked down at his lap. Even that young, the man was already a horrendous monster.

"Damning himself and luck?" Dumbledore said, repeating Harry's words with a slight downturn of the corners of his lips, not as much asking Harry but more himself.

"Tom has always been exceedingly bright. It is not that I doubt you, Harry," he said, raising his hand. "It's that Tom had a malicious cunning to him from a young age. He knew how to trap others and avoid becoming so himself."

"True," Horace said, shifting in his seat. "Though he had a blind spot when it came to obtaining power."

The Headmaster lifted up the parchment with the spell for the ritual on it, "Care to explain this, how you became the heir, and why the Chamber of Secrets is no longer secret?"

Harry looked to Horace, he was letting him lead the action. A subtle nod was given before Harry began to explain. "The Chamber of Secrets was still controlled by Salazar Slytherin. It was a place to house his familiar and a hidden place for his _potential_ heirs to seek out and learn from."

"Potential heirs?" Dumbledore asked, steepling his fingers.

"Yes, potential," Harry confirmed. "I'm not sure what you know of his life but he made mistakes. One of them was in how he raised his son." Harry rubbed his nose before continuing, "He had a training regimen set up and a path to follow. He left a memoir of lessons to pass down that he learned in his life."

"Hogwarts Headmaster's leave a portrait and journal behind," Dumbledore said. "I'm aware of the general outline of his life. Particularly that he sequestered himself away in the Chamber of Secrets and was not seen again."

Harry nodded, "He spent his final time working on building himself a legacy, one that would last beyond his life. A way to train heirs and test them, to see if they are worthy."

"And the test?"

Harry sat back and told him of his experience with the ritual and then elaborated onto what he suspected. Dumbledore was a brilliant wizard and may deduce things Harry and his advisors could not.

"I doubt it bound the soul to an object," Harry said, his eyebrows knitting together. "It felt more like detachment than a binding."

Dumbledore looked at the parchment again, "The ancient Egyptians were famous for their attempts to avoid death. Binding their souls was attempted...without success. Necromancers have tried to reanimate the dead by implanting another's soul into a soulless body. But, none have had success. Only Herpo's, the Foul, Horcrux has had a semblance of success."

Harry considered his words. That lined up for what he thought the ritual might be but he wasn't certain. While he didn't fully trust Dumbledore, he did believe the man did not mean him harm and was wholly against Riddle. If he could've avoided the man, it might have been his favoured solution but Dumbledore was Albus Dumbledore for a reason.

"Salazar had claimed it was the perfection of a Horcrux. Either I do it or I'd never complete my final ritual set."

The Headmaster leaned forward, his blue eyes peering through his half-moon spectacles, a keen sheen to them. "Yet your magic is balanced and I can sense no wrongness in your soul."

Harry didn't miss the reemergence of his wand. Any sort of response he might come up with was covered by Horace.

"And faced with an impossible choice, Harry did _neither_!" Horace stood up and placed his hands on the desk. "Put your wand away, _Albus_," Horace uncharacteristically snarled. "We came here of our own volition to seek to work _together_. Not so you can paint your past failures onto Harry!"

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, and then lowered his head. He let out a breath and swallowed before stowing his wand on the desk in front of them.

Horace reached behind himself and then, using his grip on the armrests, lowered himself back down. "Harry isn't you, he's not Gellert, and he's _definitely _not Tom," Horace said, his voice soft, gentle. He rubbed his forehead as he looked down for a moment.

"We're not here to guilt you. Merlin knows I've a lot to atone for, telling Riddle about Horcruxes." Slughorn's head had hung low as he admitted that but now he brought his eyes back up and they were ablaze with determination.

"Riddle aimed to create _seven_ Horcruxes," his eyes flicked to the journal on the desk, "and that is one destroyed."

Albus was seated back, almost slumped back in his chair, but the backing was too tall and straight to allow for it. "And now you wish for my aid in finding and destroying the rest of the Horcruxes, now that Harry has proven he will not fall, as Tom did?"

Harry almost rolled his eyes. "I'd have sooner killed myself than become like him," Harry said, his voice harder than steel. "I made the choice to risk that, by not doing what Riddle did."

"And just what did Riddle do?" Albus asked, gesturing to the parchment with the spell on it again. "I don't know what this does but you do?"

Harry nodded and then flicked his eyes over to Horace. After receiving another approval to continue, he explained. "This is soul magic. Whatever it does, removes your soul from your body. I believe Riddle already had a fractured soul and when he completed the ritual, he created his first Horcrux, his diary."

It was clear, to Harry, that his words had a profound effect on the Headmaster. He sat there, stroking his beard, deep in thought. Whether he was working with the revelations of what had just been revealed or something else, Harry didn't know.

"Where Riddle and I differ is that I completed the final ritual, the one that balanced the seventh set and tied them all together," Harry said, watching the headmaster carefully. "Tom survived whatever that spell was and did a 49th ritual but it wasn't a seventh ritual of the seventh set. It was the first one of a new set of seven.

"I know I was the first because the Chamber of Secrets is no more. It produced an heir he considered worthy, after all this time, and is now a part of the castle."

Horace patted him on the arm, "Harry cannot take up the name. It is a magical legacy, not a named one," Horace said, explaining something that Harry had informed him of. "But we are here, Albus, to speak on Horcruxes. With two year's time, you _must_ know more."

Harry glanced at Horace, he kept his face impassive but he appreciated the man coming to help box Dumbledore into a corner.

"Alas, what I know is little more than rumours," Dumbledore responded. "But you've answered the question of how many."

Harry was getting annoyed and he could tell Horace was too. Slughorn didn't look over but he poked Harry's arm. Having recognized the signal, Harry rummaged in his pocket and pulled out the requested item. He leaned forward and dropped it on the desk before sitting back and turning to look at Horace.

"This is a replica of Salazar Slytherin's locket. The real one was a former Horcrux. Now it's gone, dead, destroyed."

The Headmaster brought his hand up to adjust his glasses as he leaned forward, over the desk, and scrutinized the locket. His hand plucked his wand from the desk and he used it to investigate the locket.

"Where did you find such a thing?" Dumbledore asked with wonderment, his eyes not coming off the replica locket. The locket twirled in the air in front of him. "There are pictures of what it looked like. The original is destroyed?"

"Of course, Albus, of course," Horace said, though he played his part well, faking a moroseness that the locket was destroyed. "Basilisk venom, and If you want that story, Albus, you'll come clean with what you _suspect_," Horace said, brooking no room for negotiation.

Dumbledore looked at each of them and then stood up, without saying a word. He walked over to a cabinet and it opened up into a bowl. He placed the tip of his wand into it and brought some silvery fluid-like strands up to his forehead. After completing the action a few more times he closed the cabinet and came to sit back down.

"Tom, from a young age, liked to collect trophies. Since discovering the diary, I have sought to piece together what items he might have used," Dumbledore said, his eyes sharp and with a weariness that he wasn't sure he'd seen before.

"His diary was just the first. The second, I believe he sought out from his ancestry, the Gaunts."

"Marvolo and his brood?" Slughorn's eyes squinting in thought as he asked.

"Marvolo, Morfin, and Merope, the last of the once-proud family," Dumbledore replied, nodding his head.

Horace turned to Harry, "They were once numerous. A family of parseltongues that bred cousin to cousin, aunt to nephew, niece to uncle and brother to sister," he said, his nose wrinkling in putrid disgust. "All to keep their line pure, the so-called descendants of Slytherin."

"The last two didn't attend Hogwarts. Morfin was half-mad, even as a child, and Merope a squib," Dumbledore paused and brought his hand to his temple as he sighed. "Morfin died in Azkaban, though I am _discreetly _following up a lead to confirm what I suspect may have happened. Bob Odgen was the arresting member of the Ministry and I hope to question him."

"What is it that you suspect?" Harry pressed, knowing that the man's guesses were almost enough to be taken as fact.

"I suspect, Harry, that Morfin Gaunt did not murder Tom Riddle Sr. That a teenaged Voldemort murdered his father and created another Horcrux with the sole heirloom the Gaunts still possessed."

"Marvolo's ring," Horace said, nodding as he stared blankly at Dumbledore. "The man would flaunt it."

"Indeed."

Harry digested the words and almost felt out of place. While he had come a long way in understanding his place in the magical world, there was still so much of their culture that he was oblivious to. Watching them go back and forth made him appreciate how lucky he was to have such skilled men around helping him.

"That's three then. Diary, locket, and a ring," Harry said, hoping to keep things focused.

"Yes, and beyond that, I thought of an item for each founder. Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup, and Ravenclaw's diadem. I'd suggest Gryffindor's sword but Tom would never have had access to it."

"But that is only five...do you have ideas for the others?"

The Headmaster looked at Harry, who had asked the question. "I do, though I have no real reason to consider his familiar, other than his personal connection to it."

Harry looked to Horace and he saw the man rubbing his chin in thought. Horace knew that they were aware of the cup and its whereabouts. Though neither of them would be able to confess that to Dumbledore, not now, not ever. And, on top of that, the diadem had been found and cleansed.

"His snake may be possible…the diadem has been lost for ages but the cup was lost after the murder of Hepzibah Smith," Horace said, quirking his chin in thought. "I wouldn't put it past either of them to be beyond Tom's grasp. He was frightfully charismatic and could ferret out information like few others."

"Well, Regulus wasn't a fan, at least, not at the end," Harry said. "He might have won him early but Regulus saw through it and stole the locket from a cave."

"A cave? Was it by the seaside?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes radiating intense curiosity.

Harry shrugged. "Kreacher would have to take you. I've never been. But I can have Kreacher take you."

"I'll hold you too that," Dumbledore said as he relaxed back into his chair. "It is one of the places I planned to investigate as a Horcrux hideaway."

"Do you have anywhere else in mind?" Harry asked, wanting to pry as much information out of the man as possible. "A follower had the diary, the locket was in a cave and we don't know of any other locations?"

"Perhaps here, at Hogwarts?" Horace mused aloud and Harry had to suppress the will to smirk.

"I'd considered that but with the Chamber of Secrets in mind. Did you find anything, Harry?"

"There was nothing," Harry replied, shaking his head.

"You're sure?" Dumbledore queried, once again peering down at him over his glasses.

"Horcruxes have souls. You can detect them," Harry said, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. He was capable and had done more to destroy Horcruxes and Riddle's powerbase than the venerated man sitting across from him.

Harry caught Horace's eye and he saw the slight dip of his head. "Besides, there was one horcrux that has already been found and destroyed here," Harry said and then paused for effect. Sometimes it was nice to be the one withholding information.

"The diadem was found. A house elf pointing out a room that neither staff nor students use. Locating a soul fragment wasn't too difficult," Harry said. Though he wanted to praise Daphne for having found it, his advisors didn't believe it wise to let Dumbledore know how widespread the information had been revealed, vow or no vow.

"I wouldn't have considered that. Yet, it is often the simplest of things that lead to the greatest discoveries," he said, smiling at Harry, his eyes twinkling with merriment. "What made you think to ask?"

Harry shrugged, "Dobby was the one who noticed there was a hidden area in the Chamber of Secrets. It only made sense to try again."

"Ingenius," Dumbledore chuckled softly. "A marvelous idea and one that should have been thought of… I'll have to have a discussion with the Hogwarts elves."

The smile on the headmaster's face fell as he shifted in his seat. "But, aside from Hogwarts, I believe there is one at the former Gaunt residence. There were some particularly nasty protections that reek of Tom's doing."

Horace clapped his hands together, "Excellent, excellent. Three down and the location of a fourth. A fifth location to investigate as well," he said jovially, his face shining with delight. "I trust we'll keep each other appraised of any developments?"

"Of course, I'll speak with the elves here and the portraits as well. Perhaps a ghost may have insight as well," he said, musing aloud.

If there was a time to sigh, it was now. There was one more Horcrux that they were now aware of and Harry had no doubt that Dumbledore suspected it. Thankfully, with the spell in front of them, there might be a way to remove it. Patrice and Apolline were leading that up and Harry could trust them with that delicate situation.

He had hoped Dumbledore might be more forthcoming but it appeared he really wasn't.

Horace had talked with him before, as to whether they should divulge that they believed the black speck on his scar that Natalia had seen was a Horcrux.

Harry stared at Slughorn and waited to see if he was given the signal to go ahead and bring it up or not. When Harry saw the minute nod of Horace's head, he knew it was about to get interesting.

Harry stood and withdrew his wand. He shut his eyes and prepared himself for what he was about to do.

"When Harry tried the spell out, knowing full well he had to channel it through immense agony, something peculiar was noted," Horace said, his voice deceptively soft. Harry knew he was baiting a trap and they'd learn if Dumbledore was aware of the Horcrux in his scar.

"I was hoping you could take a look, Albus. Perhaps you could tell us what it is." He locked eyes with Harry and nodded.

Harry, closing his eyes once more, took in a deep breath and then exhaled it. He opened his eyes and looked at Dumbledore. "I'll only hold it for a couple seconds. Watch around my scar." As he said the final word, Harry didn't need to be a legilimens to know what the man had realized. His shoulders slumped and the pinching of his nose was a dead giveaway.

"Do I need to subject myself to this or can you just admit you know what my scar really is, professor?" The grip he had on his wand slackened as he knew it wasn't necessary to go through with it anymore.

Dumbledore didn't quiver away or try to deny it. He looked Harry in the eye, guilt pooling behind his blue eyes, and he admitted it. "I feared it was a Horcrux but I was never certain."

"How long? How long have you _feared_ it was the case?" Harry asked, almost spitting the words, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"There was always something unnatural about it," he said, not looking away. "But only after the diary did my thoughts turn to that possibility. For there was one more oddity about the night of Tom's downfall that I have kept from seeing the light of day."

Harry froze, he already knew about Sirius and Pettigrew. If this was a betrayal or a mistake on the Headmaster's part that led to his parents' death, he wasn't sure he could keep himself from lashing out at the man.

"Voldemort never brought his familiar with him on raids. It was always left behind, protected," Dumbledore said, his voice no louder than a whisper. "Yet, on that night, I found incontrovertible evidence that Nagini had been there, in the house, in your room, Harry."

Harry felt his heart thumping in his chest and he listened with rapt attention.

"Why would he have brought her?" Slughorn asked, though Harry wondered if he meant to speak them aloud. His jaw was slightly lowered and he'd lost a little colour.

"I believe the triumph over the Potters that night was to be a feat marked by the making of another Horcrux, a living Horcrux."

_Another Horcrux_. The words echoed in his mind. His death was supposed to be used to fuel an abomination of magic.

He felt sick to his stomach. The grotesque bastard had tried to use him like that?

Anger. Rage. Hate. If he hadn't already planned to kill the bastard for murdering his parents then he'd have found the will, many times over.

Even still, he could feel righteous fury bubbling under his surface. This wouldn't stand. When the confrontation came, he'd end the disgrace, the _false heir_.

Horace's arm clasped his shoulder. Harry let out a breath, trying to send all his frustration with it. Now wasn't the time to get upset.

"You believe he intends to make his familiar a Horcrux?"

"I do. And when he comes back, when, not if, I expect it will be one of the first things he does."

Harry sat back down. _That_ was interesting. It was possible that he hadn't completed the Horcrux ritual set then.

Harry's plan was already to just kill him if he got the chance. It would be easier to track down Horcruxes with Voldemort in wraith form, than with him being an active enemy combatant to contend with.

Harry was just about to bring the conversation back to the Horcrux in his head, unleashing some of the outrage he had built up over Dumbledore not telling him when McGonagall was seen, seen not heard, entering the office.

Dumbledore gave them both a stern look, obviously noting the end of the sensitive information on Horcruxes being bandied about, and he waved his wand, dispelling some of the privacy spells he had put up.

"Albus! Open your floo, Amelia has been trying to reach you for the past half-hour!" The woman looked uncharacteristically frantic, her hair somewhat dishevelled and it appeared as though she had run to his office, given the rosy colour of her cheeks and the laboured breathing.

"I was in a meeting, what could be so important that you had to use your authority as Deputy Headmistress to bypass the protections on the office?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrow, radiating a sense of calm and control, that no matter the situation he was capable of handling it, with ease.

"Azkaban...it…" she shook her head and clamped a hand over her mouth in concern. "Just open the floo, Albus!"

Dumbledore nodded and then turned to the fireplace and waved his hand. Harry felt a wave of openness pass over him and a head popped through almost immediately. The head disappeared almost as quickly, before Harry could make out who it was.

Two seconds later, Stacey Parent strode through the fireplace, her posture rigid, and Harry could see how stressed she was.

"Have you told him?" she said, ignoring Horace and Harry's presence and looked right to McGonagall.

"No," the words were barely loud enough to hear but she also shook her head vigorously.

Head Auror Parent walked up to the desk, gave a significant look at Harry and Horace, then turned to Dumbledore, her jaw set. "Azkaban was raided. The prison _destroyed_, the guards missing, and no sign of _any_ inmates."

Dumbledore shot a piercing gaze at Harry before his eyes darted to Stacey. "Any signs as to who did this or how it was pulled off?"

Parent gave a tight nod, her hands still balled into fists. "You-Know-Who's mark was found over the island and it's clear to see the place was torched with fiendfyre."

Harry sat back in his chair, his hand covering the lower part of his face. He felt a bit pale and he knew his breathing was fast and shallow, his heart rate up.

"The guards were missing? The aurors or the dementors?" Dumbledore asked, his voice heavy and Harry he could almost see a weight settle on his shoulders.

"There are no signs of the dementors _and_ the aurors who were supposed to be stationed there," Parent said, her teeth grinding together after speaking.

Harry glanced at Horace and the man was playing this off perfectly. His doe-like eyes were wide and he looked truly horrified with the revelations.

Harry had lost track of the conversation as he was too concerned with playing his part to perfection. But, as he was looking away from the desk, staring vacantly into the fire, he was the first to see another auror step through the floo.

"Stacey, Stacey," the dark purple haired auror called out. "Stacey!"

The Head Auror turned, her head jerking back as her eyes widened, seeing who had addressed her. "What is it, Tonks?"

"Two more attacks, both with the dark mark," Tonks said, her voice shaky and the colour of her hair lightening and darkening as she spoke.

"T-two more?" Stacey said, recoiling, leaning back against the desk.

"Yeah," Tonks glanced around, noting how many other occupants were in the room.

"Well," Parent said, pushing herself back up on her feet, standing tall, and crossing her arms over her chest. "Details, auror, I need details. What do we know?"

"C-can I brief you here or?" she gestured at everyone else in the room.

Stacey's eyes darted to each person before she focused back on the auror under her command. "Amelia won't mind. If these are the opening salvos of the war, we'll need Potter's and Dumbledore's wands to combat You-Know-Who."

Tonks gave a slow deliberate nod, the spiky purple hair wilting as she took in the words, her eyes glazing over.

"Auror," Parent barked, getting her attention.

"Right, sorry," Tonks said, a fire awakening within her, burning behind her eyes. "The Nott residence was attacked. Nott Senior is dead along with what looks to be a Lestrange brother."

There was no need to feign surprise. That wasn't something that had been discussed, planned, and okayed on his part. He turned his chin and saw Horace was just as surprised looking but the look in his eye was not feigned.

Horace didn't know either. Ivan must have acted without his knowledge too.

"A Lestrange brother attacking the Nott residence?" Parent asked, the disbelief palpable in her voice.

"There was a dark mark over the home and a message painted in blood on the wall. It said: '_Death to the disloyal'_.

"Death to the disloyal?" Horace asked; the corner of his eyes crinkled and his head quirked to the side.

Tonks must not have heard it as she continued his report. But Harry had seen Dumbledore and McGonagall had, each of their attention having been drawn by the comment.

"The other Lestrange brother was amongst those that led a raid on Yaxley's home."

Harry couldn't help the gasp that escaped his mouth. His jaw lowered as he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

"Two homes, during the day?" McGonagall said, horror lacing her tone. "Merlin help us."

"Casualties, auror?" Stacey Parent asked, snapping everyone back to Tonks.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I was called in and upon arriving I was told to tell you what I have," Tonks said, shifting her weight from her left foot to her right, her posture upright and rigid. "Scrimgeour told me to report to you and attach myself to you until you send me home."

Stacey took in the words impassively and rubbed the temples of her forehead with her hands for a moment. "Death Eaters broken out, Azkaban torched, and multiple raids...this must have been coordinated in advance." She huffed out a breath and then seemed to come to a decision.

"Tonks, you're with me. Scrimgeour will have gone to Yaxley's, we'll head to Nott's and then Azkaban again," she said in a commanding tone as she waited for Tonks to acknowledge her words. She took two steps away from the desk and then turned to address Dumbledore. "If you can take a look at Azkaban and see what you think, that would be helpful. We've no leads. Just missing people, dementors, a destroyed fortress blackened by fiendfyre."

"I will, my dear, I will," Dumbledore said, his voice calm and reassuring. "I'll pay a visit to Amelia after as well. I fear we have much to speak about."

Harry had been sitting here, trying to make sense of it all. They had planned to cause division between the Death Eaters. Framing the raid on Azkaban as Riddle's doing had been the plan for the first step.

This though, raiding two homes of Death Eaters who hadn't been convicted. This hadn't been decided upon. They were supposed to go over the intelligence and then decide upon a plan of action, together.

Harry watched as the two women left. He turned and saw McGonagall was seated, though the conjured chair wasn't quite the same as the one she usually preferred.

His frustration must have shown as Dumbledore picked up on it. "There is little we can do at the moment, Harry," he said, leaning back in his chair. "And I fear this is only the beginning. Raids were a regular occurrence and it will only be a matter of time until they target the general public."

Harry took in a deep breath, working to control himself, and let out a breath, trying to push out his frustrations.

"You'll need to be ready, Harry, my boy," Dumbledore said, his face strained. "Tom will come for you. I'm an obstacle he knows he can work around. You, though, are the symbol of his defeat, his weakness."

"Tom despised weakness, always trying to laud his power, make people fear him," Horace added, his words soft and weighty.

"We'll have to be careful and work quickly, with Voldemort being active now," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard. Harry could almost see the man thinking behind his blue eyes. "I assume the spell you gave me is how you hope to remove the issue?"

With McGonagall in the room, Harry understood that he was talking about an issue that couldn't be allowed to become known.

"I have the Delacours looking into it; it is something that will need to be dealt with," Harry said, feeling apprehension as he spoke of the Horcrux in his scar.

"I had been pursuing my own avenue to deal with it…but yours is far more promising," he said, a small smile tugging on his lips.

Dumbledore stood up and clapped his hands together, calling for Fawkes. "Alas, our meeting is at an end. Now, more than ever, we need to band together and stand against the coming darkness."

He turned to McGonagall, "Inform the staff, this will break in the Prophet shortly. We'll need to ensure Hogwarts policies and procedures are prepared, again."

The Deputy Headmistress bowed her head and Harry could see the gravity of the situation settle on her, shock having worn off.

"Horace, Harry, we'll have to pause our conversations here." A twinkle came to his eyes, "As Alastor says, constant vigilance. It will be needed now. I'll be in touch." With Fawkes having flown over to his master, Dumbledore grabbed a hold of the tail feathers and they disappeared in a flash of fire.

With the meeting over, Harry and Horace made their way to the floor, there was much to do and more to discuss.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_The day has ended and I could not be more proud of you, my heir._

_I challenged you to be more, to be worthy, to become my heir and I can tell you that you have succeeded._

_For it is not power that makes a man, it is not ambition, nor wits alone._

_Character. Character is what makes a man great, greater than I._

_As I sit here and write the final pages of my memoir, I can rest in peace. For you have passed a test I myself failed in my youth. I was blind in my pursuit of power and failed to understand the cost of tampering with your soul._

_Your soul is who you are, a manifestation that is beyond the comprehension of man. Spirit, mind, body, and magic all blended into a single being. No matter the spell, the ritual, the runic creation, magic can never best nature, for magic __**is**_ _nature._

_Splitting your soul, binding your soul, or any other sort of deplorable act all must be paid with a cost too terrible to bear. For myself, it was my empathy. My ability to feel, to love, to share my feelings with others. An inability to understand a fundamental part of human nature._

_For it is empathy that is the basis of love. It is empathy that is the basis of human interaction. Without empathy, you are a shell of yourself. People don't have intrinsic value, they are not worth more than the cattle you raise, only fit for slaughter._

_Empathy, my heir, is the foundation of a happy, fulfilling life. Without love, what is the point of marriage? Without love, without empathy, how can you raise a son, a daughter?_

_I told you I was a failure of a man and it took me many years to realize what I had lost. No manner of rituals could undo what I myself had wrought. And so, at the end of my days, I know death, I have tasted it. At a cost that was too high to bear. It is only with Godric's, Rowena's, and Helga's assistance that I am around to write this. For the pursuit of power is pure folly._

_But you, my heir, are more than I, greater than I._

_You were challenged to either risk having a short life or to complete a ritual. And you choose neither._

_When I encouraged it and tried to bait you into doing a ritual that would have ruined you, you refused._

_I can only guess as to why you have done so. But, either way, you have avoided tampering with your soul. And, if you have not yet figured out what the ritual does, allow me to educate you. It is a ritual that was the basis for the development of the Killing Curse. The spell you channel pulls your soul from your body. If you were successful in casting it, you'd have committed suicide._

_I would never allow a spawn of mine to take all of what I have given them and then allow them to tamper with their soul. It was the final temptation, the forbidden fruit that you should have known better than to try and pluck._

_It is not a ritual one can do by accident. It takes immense will to endure a mere second of it. It was said that it was a way to regain respect, regain lost honour._

_As your soul detaches from your body, you feel less, you sense less, you become _ _ **less** _ _._

_How could you understand magic, the very building blocks it is built upon, and fail to recognize that what was going on in that ritual was _ _ **wrong** _ _?_

_But why would I tell you that, my heir? You who have already resisted the temptation and become a greater man than I. For it is not always in the actions of others that you find greatness, sometimes it is their restraint that shows their character._

_As I sit here and write these words, know that I couldn't be any more proud of you, my heir._

_I have taught you all that I know, I have gifted you with everything I view as wise to do._

_The final ritual is in the book. One that will balance your magic. Have no fear, my library is yours for the taking and I can finally rest in peace._

_Live well; love well. Live a full life and rise to your full potential. Eclipse my legacy._

_Stay true to yourself._

_You are better than I._

_You are more than I._

_You are worthy._

_You are my true heir._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, cliffy is done. Been rather frequent updates here, 4 chapters posted Sept 29-Oct18. Gonna relax a little here now so don’t be expecting an update within a few days. I knew the plan for the chapter sequence and had debated waiting to post 49/50 on the same day, and even 47-50. But, as you all know, I went for just posting it when it was done.
> 
> Thanks to Nauze & Triage for the beta work, as always!
> 
> Thanks for reading, commenting, giving kudos & bookmarking! If you’d like to join the discord follow the link in my profile.

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted from FFN. I'm told the writing starts to get better around chapter 7. When I'm all done the fic I might come back and rewrite but I'd rather continue to progress the fic than come back and keep updating the quality as I get better. Chapter 10 is better than Chapter 1, Chapter 20 better than 10...
> 
> Beta'd by NeverGonnaStop 9/22/19
> 
> Author's Notes:
> 
> This is the first fanfiction I've written/published. I've read quite a bit of Harry Potter fanfiction in the past couple years and I began looking for specific plots and on occasion I failed to find them. Thus began my entry into creative writing as I let my mind wonder how ideas and concepts would work out. I've outlined quite a few in very rough fashion. This fanfiction is the result of about half a dozen concepts joining together. With this being an introduction they haven't really shown up yet. Here are a few questions I had:
> 
> How did the Chamber of Secrets stay a secret for so long?
> 
> How did the Triwizard Tournament stay so small time?
> 
> How could Harry see Remus and Sirius actions leading into 4th year as okay?
> 
> Where did all of Harry's parents and grandparents stuff go? Did they have no friends?
> 
> How would Harry become Voldemort's equal? He wasn't at the end of the prophecy.
> 
> Why is Britain so insular in the magical world?
> 
> I'll work through a few thoughts on the first question. There were parselmouths that were in the wizarding world before Tom Riddle and Harry Potter. Not a single student had been able to find it or if they did had never bragged about knowing about it? Myths like the Lochness Monster have been studied and researched for years and the wizarding world wouldn't for the CoS? Must be something more to it than Riddle being the first person to find it.
> 
> I've enjoyed conceiving and working through these concepts and thought maybe there are others that would be interested in reading it. If there's little interest then I'll continue my hobby of outlining ideas that pique my interest. This fic is looking to be a 1 year-ish fic. The concepts I'm interested in get explored within two years. I don't have new ones or thoughts on how to extend it into a multi-year fic of quality. It could change or my plan of 1 year-ish of setting up a new different Harry Potter with epilogue works best. I've not written anything that would be considered creative writing before so my first chapter could be rather poorly done and not interesting enough to continue.


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